


Your Burden to Bear

by Rin_the_Shadow



Series: In Your Own Words [7]
Category: Dororo (Anime 2019)
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Burnout - Freeform, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Communication Issues, Dororo is a good bro, Escape, Families of Choice, Gen, Horses, Hyakkimaru Is a Good Bro, Hyakkimaru fricking loves horses, Imprisonment/Capture, Nonverbal Communication, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Semiverbal Character, Tahomaru is a good bro, characters under intense distress, cw attempted strangulation, cw for near-drowning experience, cw for self-injury, cw verbal dehumanization, internalized ableism, magic-induced speech compulsions, meltdown-like episodes, mild to moderate body horror, miscommunications, pulls elements from the stage play, that incident with the nue, they don't always get it right but they try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_the_Shadow/pseuds/Rin_the_Shadow
Summary: A situation with an unexpected ally in unfamiliar territory takes an unexpected turn as everything they have tried to push back comes crashing down around them.
Relationships: Dororo & Hyakkimaru & Tahomaru (Dororo), Dororo & Hyakkimaru (Dororo), Dororo & Tahomaru (Dororo), Hyakkimaru & Tahomaru (Dororo)
Series: In Your Own Words [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1427455
Comments: 64
Kudos: 112





	1. Survive

**Author's Note:**

> An advance warning that some of the samurai in this chapter use ableist and otherwise derogatory language towards the protagonists.

They had been careless, wandered a bit too close to the border of some territory or other which was preparing to go to war with its neighbor. The samurai guarding the place had taken them for spies, and when they couldn’t prove that’s what they were, they had taken them in for “being suspicious” and “sneaking around.” There had been too many of them for Dororo or Tahomaru to handle—he suspected Hyakkimaru could have fought them off, but not while they had swords pointed at his brothers’ throats. Not without risking his being the only one to come out of it alive.

“Get out of here! Go!” Dororo had shouted, much to his surprise. And to his greater surprise, Hyakkimaru obeyed him, sprinting into the trees just ahead of a flurry of arrows.

Some of the soldiers ran after him. Tahomaru suspected they wouldn’t be coming back. So much the better, though he wouldn’t voice that in front of the guards or in front of Dororo.

If it came down to it, if they decided to kill them on the spot, he was certain his elder brother would come back right then. But it still wasn’t a theory he had any desire to test, Tahomaru thought as he curled around the younger boy, and there was no reason to force Hyakkimaru to test his own speed against theirs. So he had allowed them to manhandle them into what appeared to have once been a stable, but had been altered to act as holding cells.

It hadn’t been…quite as bad as he was expecting, though was certain he was going to have some noticeable bruises come morning. Putting up just enough show of resistance to keep their attention off of Dororo while avoiding the more severe punishments for himself had been an interesting challenge, to put it mildly. But at the very least, he had prevented them from separating them. He pushed himself to a seated position, hissing at the sting in his ribcage.

“Tahomaru?” Dororo whispered.

“Hm?” He hoped the reassurance that he was still conscious had been enough. Yet even without looking at him, he could tell there was more he wanted to ask.

“What’s…gonna happen to us?” Dororo’s voice was impossibly small.

Tahomaru swallowed, struggling to keep his voice low and even. “If it’s anything like Kaga Province, then most likely, they’ll take us somewhere to be shot or beheaded. To be made an example of.”

That wasn’t necessarily the case. Hyogo and Mutsu…they’d never quite given him the full story. At this point, he suspected they didn’t remember all of it. But from what they could remember, at least what they _had_ told him and what he’d gathered himself, they’d been in there for longer than what was reasonable by any stretch of the imagination. These people might do that to them—

“Bro will be back before then,” Dororo nodded, balling his hands into fists. “I’m sure of it.”

“…Right.” Hyakkimaru had escaped. No one had recognized either of them. Whoever these people were, they were probably too busy with their own territory to worry about his father’s. At least, for now.

He felt a sharp nudge against his side and winced. “C’mon, don’t give me that crap! How many demons have you seen bro take down by now, huh? A bunch of samurai dogs are _nothing!_ ”

“Shh!” Tahomaru clamped a hand over his mouth. As much as he might have wanted to agree with him, the fact remained that _they_ needed to stay alive until then. And besides, a part of him protested, there was a huge difference between an army of samurai and a demon, or even multiple demons.

 _He was fine against your father_ , he struggled to remind himself as a slimy wetness traced over his palm. Tahomaru grimaced, but didn’t let go just yet, instead leaning in and hissing, “You can’t just go shouting whatever you think here. Don’t you know if they hear you they could—”

“ _Oi!_ ” A harsh voice barked from somewhere outside the cell. “Can you shut the damn brat up? Or do I have to do it for you?”

Perhaps he should offer an apology, but that would only draw more unwanted attention to them now. If they came in and decided to reprimand any of them…

“You hear me?” The bars rattled as a hand struck them. “Or are you mute as well, you half-blind dog?”

Tahomaru only curled tighter around Dororo, pressing him against the wall. The comment about his eye was only meant to provoke him, make him lash out, give them an excuse. Not that they needed one to come in there. Or maybe it was to remind him of his status compared to theirs. Not that it was accurate, but they had no reason to know that. He could feel a heart pounding like a rabbit’s, and he wasn’t sure if it was his or Dororo’s. He could feel him tensing in his grip. Perhaps it was both.

A thick, hacking snort cut through the silence, and he heard the spit against the floor. If this were Ishikawa, he wouldn’t put up with it for a moment. If he could trust any of the other prisoners to help him instead of cowering like frightened beasts, or worse, beating him down to keep him from making more trouble for them, he wouldn’t have put up with any of it.

“The brat makes any more noise, I’ll kill you both!” he snarled, striking the bars once more for good measure before he stalked off.

Only when he could no longer hear his footsteps did Tahomaru release the younger boy from his grip, still angling himself so he could shield him if he came back. He hated to think of himself as a coward, but the fact remained that they had to stay alive until Hyakkimaru could return and they could escape. He didn’t have access to the same authority and resources he would have if he had appeared as Daigo Tahomaru—and even then, if he slipped and revealed his identity now, that would only make him a pawn for them to use as leverage.

He wished Hyogo and Mutsu were here.

Dororo was shaking, though he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or from the effort of keeping all that rage pent up in his tiny frame. He spat bitterly, murmuring that he wasn’t about to lose to any samurai dog. That he would _never_ lose to someone like that.

“Lemme tell you, it won’t be easy getting out of this place.” Both of them whipped around at the voice from further inside the cells.

He shifted, and at this point, Tahomaru could see him standing and seemingly melting out of the shadows. “But I like your spirit, kid. If what you said is true, then I’ll help you. So how about it?” He crossed his arms, cocking his head as if he’d suggested something like skipping penmanship lessons.

There was no way this guy could possibly be serious, and judging from the nervous hands clenching against his side, Dororo thought so, too. “About the samurai…?” he started.

The man shook his head. “Ah, no, I wasn’t talking about that. I meant earlier, the thing about the monsters.”

“Oh…” Tahomaru could feel him standing a little taller, and he slipped a hand over his back to remind him to be quiet. “Yeah, my big bro’s killed a lot of demons. He’s really strong!”

Expectant eyes were on him, waiting for him to confirm it. “I haven’t been there for as long as he has, but it is true.” There was still a chance this guy was only messing with them, looking to turn them in to gain better conditions—a better death, or even a job offer.

“All right then, I’ll help you. But for now, let’s get some sleep.”

“Just like that?” Dororo asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, already lying down. “I overheard them talking before you were brought in. It’s only a matter of time before they take us out. Unless you’re someone they think they can leverage?”

“Not unless they’ve decided they're desperate to kill my brother, too,” Tahomaru muttered. They had no reason to know otherwise.

“Then it’s only a matter of time. Get some rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another of those arcs of the story that I initially told myself I wouldn't cover. But a mix of an extremely tedious lecture class and several different conversations with friends in the Dororo Discord ultimately changed my mind as I realized there were ideas I wanted to explore within this part of the story. 
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	2. A Roll of the Dice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar warning to the last chapter, in this case, around our "mystery prisoner."

Dororo’s sleep that night was restless, always in starts and stops, and he knew at least part of it was because his body was expecting to wake up, to trade shifts with Tahomaru or Hyakkimaru. If he didn’t want to think about the rest of it, well, it wasn’t like there was anyone around to make him.

He awoke to the sound of low voices murmuring—Tahomaru and that other guy. He’d have to get his name later. It almost seemed wrong, seeing him planning with someone who wasn’t his bro. But he had to have done it before. It wasn’t like he and Hyakkimaru were his first allies. Even if he’d never mentioned Hyogo and Mutsu before, he would’ve known this had to be the case.

There was a sound of footsteps, and instantly, Dororo’s world jolted into awareness. “Get ready,” the man said, moving in front of them.

“All right, nutjob. Get up,” one of the soldiers said, opening the door. “This is it for you. Got a tip that you’ve been up to your crazy shit again.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he remained planted where he was, glaring up in a way that was almost completely at odds with how calm he had been before.

“I said _up!_ ” The guard jammed his foot into his ribs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tahomaru wince in sympathy. Maybe he shouldn’t have elbowed him earlier.

He moved to kick him again, and Dororo felt Tahomaru clamp his hand down over his shoulder to keep him from surging forward. “Are you deaf now, too? Get up!” he growled, reaching to haul him up. But just as his hand touched him, the man swung his leg, kicking his knee out from under him.

As he stumbled, he grasped his sword and pulled it loose from its sheath, swiftly dispatching him as he got to his feet, then stepping over him to take out the next one. Tahomaru’s grip shifted, shoving Dororo towards the opening. “Let’s go!” he called, catching the sword that was tossed to him as they ran for it.

Some of the other prisoners followed them. Others just sat, wide-eyed, unwilling to move and risk recapture, or unable to. And Dororo wanted to scream at them, hurry up, didn’t they understand they’d die if they stayed there? But his heart thumped into his throat and choked back his call.

Already, their escape was something like a battleground, soldiers running out, calling for reinforcements, “They’re escaping! This way!” and other shouts Dororo couldn’t quite recognize. The yells of the ones who fell and the screams of recaptured prisoners, a near vicious snarl which he didn’t want to think too much about where it came from.

Where Tahomaru never strayed far from Dororo, only engaging the samurai when they got too close, the stranger was all over the place, sometimes behind them, keeping them away, other times, farther ahead, an almost wild glint in his eye as he cut them down. He could see the strain in Tahomaru’s expression as his mind worked to adjust to his missing eye. There was one angle he still struggled with, and some of the samurai had homed in on that, trying to ambush him from behind and to the right.

Even worse, Dororo could see some of his danger cues beginning to flare up. His breathing was getting shallower, his movements stiffer. All the swords clanging around, the seemingly endless throng of soldiers, it must have set something off. But if he had one of _those moments_ right now, he’d definitely die.

He wasn’t much good for a fight against this many, but still, he did what he could, tripping legs out from under attackers and occasionally throwing a punch, dragging Tahomaru towards the trees. If he could keep him from fighting as much as possible—

Something streaked past them, felling two of the samurai behind them and knocking the weapon away from a third. “Bro!” He couldn’t help the grin spreading over his face.

Hyakkimaru had planted himself between the two of them and the rest. He’d probably try to fight them all if he thought he needed to. He could probably do it, too. But after everything that had happened, Dororo was starting to think maybe it would be better if he didn’t have to.

“Bro! C’mon, let’s get out of here!” he called, shouting over the cacophony of voices. “There’s a guy helping us, but we need to go!”

He hesitated for a moment, but turned and kept pace with his brothers, occasionally swinging a sword to warn away anyone who got too close, probably not caring if he _did_ take off someone’s arm in the process.

When they finally lost them, Hyakkimaru spat his forearm out, holding the blade out for Dororo to re-sheathe. For a second or two after, he wavered between him and Tahomaru, whose knuckles were going white around the hilt of the sword as his right palm pressed into his eye. It must have been taking a lot out of him, holding together for as long as he had.

“Ah, wait!” Dororo yelped as Hyakkimaru reached for his brother’s sword hand, mumbling for him not to hurt himself. Tahomaru flinched, struggling to pull away, but when he felt wooden fingers running over the back of his hand, he slowly uncurled his own from the hilt. Seconds later, he latched onto Hyakkimaru with both hands and buried his face against the fold of his kimono, taking several harsh breaths.

He could see him stiffen at the fingers digging into his back, the arms squeezing tight around his ribcage. But he didn’t pull away or try to shake him off, and after a moment, he brought his own hands up to mirror Tahomaru’s, remaining still until his choked breathing evened out and he stood up, keeping his gaze averted.

It was either not one of his worse ones, since he’d actually been able to let bro touch him without shoving him away, or it was bad enough that he hadn’t cared. The more he thought about it, the less certain Dororo became of which it was.

Maybe he’d ask him about it later. But for now, he threw himself against his bro, letting him stumble a bit from his sudden force before he managed to balance. Heh. He still wasn’t quite used to that left leg, was he?

“Dororo, Tahomaru,” he said, his voice hoarse. He probably hadn’t spoken since they’d gotten separated, Dororo thought. “You are hurt? No? Yes?”

“Oh!” He stood back, straightening himself out. “I’m good, but Tahomaru blocked some hits they meant for me, I think.” He turned on his heels and started digging through his bag. “I can check you now if—oh, but maybe we should get further away from—” He smacked his forehead. “Ah, but then there’s that guy and—”

“Hey. Took me awhile to lose those guys. You’d think they would’ve been happier to get rid of their resident loon.” He started as if to sheathe the sword he’d taken, then stopped, frowning as he remembered he didn’t have a sheath for it, then simply rested the flat edge on his shoulder. “So, this your brother?”

Hyakkimaru didn’t startle, but there was something in his stance that was tenser than before. Right, he didn’t know this guy. “Yeah! This is my big bro, Hyakkimaru!” he chirped. “Oh, but I didn’t catch your name, I don’t think.”

He grinned. “Yeah, don’t think I gave it back there. I’m Saburota. Though some call me Dice-Spot Saburota…” He shook his head, as if remembering a joke from a long time ago. Adults always seemed to find the strangest things funny, for some reason. It was one of those things he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get, even when he was older.

“And you two?” Saburota prompted.

“Ah! Right. I’m Dororo.” _But some people call me the Great Thief Dororo_ , not that he was going to announce it. “And this is Tahomaru.”

He was tempted to lie and say there was no relation to the Daigo clan, but then, if this guy didn’t already know he should suspect that, he didn’t want to go putting it into his head. Besides, saying something like that would’ve been too obvious. The Great Thief Dororo had not survived all by himself by being obvious.

“So Dororo, Tahomaru, and…Hyakkimaru, right?” Saburota said, looking over each of them as he matched name to face. “We should put some distance between us and this place. Some of those guys might show up again, and I’m not too keen on going back there.”

“Hm,” Tahomaru nodded, sticking close to his elder brother. It was probably as much for him as it was for Hyakkimaru, but maybe Saburota wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Though with a name like “Saburota,” Dororo was just a little bit worried he might. Depending on just how long the other two had been around.

At the very least, he didn't bother commenting on it.

“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A 'Saburo' or third son, unable to succeed his father, often became wayward."--Chapter 16, Dororo. Not sure if Dororo would know about that play on words, but I felt like making a crappy joke, so I did. 
> 
> One of the things I've loved about the stage play and PS2 versions of Saburota's storyline is that he is introduced before he becomes specifically plot-relevant. While I didn't do that in my own series, it's largely because up until about November, when I first started plotting this out, I didn't have any intention of going anywhere near this character or any storyline having anything to do with him. The idea of their being imprisoned together and him helping them escape is something I lifted almost directly from the stage play (but swap Tahomaru for Jukai and Sukeroku). 
> 
> But since I can't very well have, "Hey, get up, they're taking us to Banmon" as my transition here, I had the reason being that the guards think Saburota made up or imagined the stuff about the demon, and that he's using it to cause trouble. It's probably a bit of a stretch that they would completely dismiss the idea of demon or monster activity, but...
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	3. A Break in Communication

He had taken them quite a ways before they opted to rest and Dororo checked on Tahomaru’s ribs. Apparently, he had been kicked when the men had taken them to be locked up. Hearing that had been…upsetting, to say the least. Dororo had told him to go, so he had done it. He’d planned to circle around, figure out the fastest way in and out, and get them back. But maybe he could have stopped it from happening at all if he hadn’t run.

Tahomaru continued hovering close to him, until Hyakkimaru had taken his face in his hand—his right hand to Tahomaru’s left cheek—and slowly rubbed his forehead with his own. He hesitated, and for a moment, he thought he’d pull away. But in the end, he had accepted it.

At least some of his hesitation probably had to do with this Saburota who had started following them. From what they said, he’d been a fellow prisoner in that camp. One who had been there for long enough to wear the guards’ patience thin. Though Hyakkimaru thought that wouldn’t take very long at all, he opted not to say anything. He’d helped them escape, so it wasn’t like he could complain about him.

But there was one thing that caught his attention. “Mention monsters one time too many, suddenly you’re crazy and they want to hack you up. Almost believed it myself, if you two hadn’t come along.”

So did that mean he’d seen some? Maybe he’d even found one of the Twelve. “Demons?” he wanted to ask.

Saburota’s eyes were on him. He knew that feeling all too well. “Your brother doesn’t say much, does he?”

“Bro’s always preferred to let his skills do the talking for him,” Dororo chirped.

“Ah,” Saburota hummed. “Is that so?”

If he didn’t believe him, it wasn’t like Hyakkimaru needed to convince him otherwise. Maybe it was just because he was new and hadn’t seen him fight. He wasn’t sure. The whole thing was making him want to go off somewhere to forage or hunt some food, but at the same time, he didn’t like the idea of separating from Dororo and Tahomaru. Not when they’d just gotten back together.

“I’ll have to see you fight sometime,” he said easily. It sounded like that should have been the end of it. But he could feel his aura shifting as he looked him over. “Are those swords sticking out of your arms?”

He resisted the urge to pull his sleeves down over the metal jutting out over his elbows. It wasn’t like no one had ever questioned them before. Maybe he ought to have felt relieved that he was asking him instead of whispering about it behind his back, as if he couldn’t hear just because he was turned away from them. Still, he wasn’t sure just what this guy was expecting. Was he supposed to take his forearm off and show him? He didn’t feel like doing that.

Instead, he nodded stiffly. There. That was enough of an answer.

“Bro uses ‘em to cut up demons and stuff!” Dororo supplied. “They’re really handy when you’re dealing with a lot of ‘em at once, or when you gotta move around in tight spaces or jump a lot.”

He caught Hyakkimaru’s hand, skipping a little as he walked.

“I’ll definitely have to see you fight sometime.”

Beside him, Tahomaru sighed. “If you stick around long enough, it will probably happen sooner or later.” There was something else in his tone, which Hyakkimaru had learned usually accompanied some variant of the phrase, “No wonder…” and carried an edge of resigned sarcasm.

“Heh…you’ve already figured out I’m the type who attracts trouble?” Saburota laughed, a dry sound that didn’t match the amusement in his aura. “Guess I didn’t exactly make that difficult for you.”

“That wasn’t…” Tahomaru started, but Saburota waved him off.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m just messing with you,” he laughed again, more fully than before. “Though I’m not surprised, if you guys’re the same. It’s probably how we ended up meeting, after all.”

Oh, so he liked to make jokes. And not quite in the same way Tahomaru and Dororo did, either. His were delivered almost like he was serious. This was going to be… Well, it would be something to get used to, at least. He huffed out a sigh. Even if he could read his aura, it didn’t mean he could just guess everything.

He was looking at him again. There was more of that curiosity spiking. A brief hesitation as a hand reached towards him, then retreated.

“You’ve been through a lot with those arms, haven’t you?” And for a moment, Hyakkimaru couldn’t read his aura. Was it pity or… Was there something he was looking for? Something in it almost reminded him of Tahomaru, crawling next to him, touching his arm and asking _do those ever hurt you?_

But before he could figure out what it was, he had turned and walked on.

“Do you hunt often?” Saburota asked that evening, as he stood over the stream and waited for the fish to gather. “This kind of thing’s a lot easier if you use a spear, but—”

Hardly hearing him, Hyakkimaru thrust his sword down multiple times in rapid succession, skewering several fish on the blade.

“Okay. Wow. So I guess that answers that,” he continued as Hyakkimaru took the fish back up to his brothers. Dororo still seemed to see cooking them as something specifically for him to do, and with how hard Tahomaru had grabbed him earlier, he didn’t even need to see his aura to know he probably needed something to keep busy with.

Everything would be fine. He wished he could make himself believe that. But there was no reason to think that wasn’t the case, right? They had escaped the samurai in the camp. Tahomaru hadn’t hurt himself when he’d gotten stuck with the sword earlier. Dororo didn’t seem to think the injuries he did have were serious. The new guy was…he wasn’t sure. Clearly he’d helped them escape. But then he kept staring and asking questions and he wanted to tell him to go away.

But then he could see a sort of odd quality with his aura. Not quite the bad one flecked with red that Sabame used to have, but something was there which shouldn’t have been. Or maybe it was something not there which should have been.

Maybe whatever that was meant that Saburota didn’t know he shouldn’t badger him like that.

Tahomaru sat with him as Dororo finished with the fish, quietly moving his hand to grasp his sleeve, guiding him to run his fingers over the material. His aura still flickered just inside its border. Having him mess with the material must have been every bit as much for him as it was for Hyakkimaru. It would help, at least. It would give his mind something to do that wasn’t just wondering whether or not Saburota was going to comment on something.

Each of them took the fish Dororo offered, carefully chewing as they ate their meal in silence.

“Actually though,” Saburota spoke up again sometime later. “Do you _want_ to learn to use a spear? I mean, maybe you’ve used one before and you didn’t like it, and that’s fine if you don’t. But if you’re up for it, I could probably find one.”

“Not if you’re planning to raid someone to get it,” Tahomaru spoke, his voice rigidly controlled.

“Heh…” he gave a harsh laugh. “Am I that obvious?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write early interaction between Saburota and Hyakkimaru is an interesting challenge, to say the least. There's a lot of question over whether the person said what he thinks he said, but also whether the other person is hearing what he thinks he's hearing. It's a little like going back through and trying to rewatch high school. Except with actual literal demons.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	4. Only a Glimpse

Over the next few days, they had learned that Saburota had been the youngest of three, that he didn’t particularly like talking about his siblings, and that for some reason, being the youngest of three meant if he wanted to make a name for himself, he had to do it elsewhere. Which Tahomaru seemed to understand, and he would probably explain it to him later if it was anything important.

He’d lived with his mom until about a half a year ago, helping her sell pelts. It was hard on her and he was hoping to “make a name for himself” as a samurai, and somehow that would help her have an easier life. Which Hyakkimaru wasn’t quite sure if he believed. After all, he’d heard enough from Tahomaru to know Daigo’s work hadn’t made anything easier for him or for his mother. And Jukai’s had made things a lot _worse_ for him. If he hadn’t gotten picked up by merchants and learned medicine, it would still be worse for him.

Though it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him that. Besides, maybe he was just talking to talk, rattling on because he wasn’t sure about the new people he’d picked up. At least he’d stopped asking about his arms.

Still, there was one other thing which was a bit strange to Hyakkimaru. When he had traveled on his own, even once Dororo and later Tahomaru had joined up with him, he often hadn’t had any particular idea of where he was going. It wasn’t like demons were marked on a map, even if there had been one he’d been able to read. That wasn’t exactly normal for most travelers, he’d learned, who tended to take the shortest routes between villages.

This Saburota either had an exceptionally bad sense of direction, or there was somewhere else he wanted to be.

His brothers must have noticed it, too, since Dororo had spoken up almost at the same time he’d thought to. “So I guess your village is pretty far from that camp, huh? Seems like we’ve been walking forever!”

There was a pause, and then Saburota had bitten back a laugh. “Ah, my bad! Old habits just took over and I completely forgot to mention anything…”

He took a moment to collect himself, and then he turned back to them.

“You said you were hunting demons, yeah?” Hyakkimaru didn’t turn to look at him. There wasn’t anything…off…about him. Not in the sense of his soul being red, at least. But there was something he didn’t like about him.

“Yeah, the demons that took bro’s body,” Dororo hummed. He hoped he wasn’t imagining the tiny note of caution in his voice.

“There’s one I can take you to. Actually, the reason I was in that camp in the first place was because I was trying to find some guys to help me take it out.” Right, the monsters he had mentioned one time too many. “Been hunting this bastard for six months now. It’s why I have this.”

There was a rustle of cloth and then Dororo gasped. Tahomaru’s aura spiked, too, though he didn’t make any sound. Probably some kind of marks on his skin, then. He might be able to feel it, if the idea of walking up to him to ask didn’t make something churn inside of him.

“You think you guys can handle it?” There was something just a bit too relaxed about his tone. But maybe he was just reading too much into it. It wasn’t like his aura was doing anything…bad…

“Yeah! Dororo chirped. “Bro’s killed tons of demons, some of the biggest and nastiest demons you can imagine! He’ll get this one in minutes! Just take us there!”

Maybe he was only imagining the light flickering just inside his aura. “Hm,” he nodded. “This way, then.”

When he hesitated for a moment, he felt Tahomaru’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing just a little too tight before releasing a sigh just below his breathing. Then did he see it, too? Or was it worry about the idea of fighting a demon that had taken so long to kill?

There was one way he could think of to fix this. He reached for the sword at his belt, grasping it by the scabbard and tugging until it came loose. Then he held it out for Tahomaru, who paused for a moment, hand hovering as if he was afraid to touch it. Maybe he was waiting for him to take it back? That didn’t make sense.

With a slow exhale, he took it, stiffly tying it into his belt. Maybe he was just anxious about the new person.

“Probably a good idea, all things considered.” A voice drifted back to them, just the slightest bit too amused. There was an almost wincing motion inside Tahomaru’s aura, and then his head snapped around with an annoyed huff.

“If you don’t think we can handle it, then don’t waste our time.” His voice was firm, but Hyakkimaru could see the anxious flickering just inside his aura.

“Not at all,” he waved a hand. “I’m afraid I’ve just gotten a bit cynical after so many months…”

Something darkened in Tahomaru’s aura, a dangerous glimmer just below the surface. Hyakkimaru felt Dororo pressing against his leg, and shifted his hand to rest on top of his hair, running his fingers back and forth several times. So they saw it too. Saw _something_. So he wasn’t imagining it?

“Then let’s press on,” Tahomaru finally said, voice rigid.

Neither one moved for a moment, and Hyakkimaru was almost certain this was what people meant when by “staring them down.” It wasn’t as though he had never done so himself, but there was something…different, for lack of a better word, about the way it looked watching others do it.

“Hey…” It was Dororo who broke the silence, tugging at Hyakkimaru’s arm. “We should go if you wanna get this demon.”

The next second, it was as though nothing had happened between the two, as though he hadn’t been making comments and staring and hadn’t managed to annoy them with it.

“Right. This way…” He turned and stalked up the hill, Hyakkimaru forcing his legs to step and follow him, Dororo clinging at his side, and Tahomaru keeping a steady pace at his other side. As if no one wanted the other to bring up the rear.

The tension hadn’t lifted in the slightest. It had only shifted around, inside the auras, rather than on the edges, in a sense. Even though none of them saw the same way he did—and sometimes, he really wished he could see what _they_ did—they must have felt it, too.

There was a small sound beside him as Dororo cleared his throat. “Hey…so you’ve been hunting the thing for six months, yeah? How come you wanna get this one so bad?”

There was a catch in the man’s step, a nearly imperceptible falter in his smooth gait. Even before he spoke, Hyakkimaru could almost feel the chill running through Dororo’s soul, even through the wood of his prosthetic. Then, all-too-stiffly, that man ground out, “This demon…it ate my ma…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tended to pull most of Saburota's characterization thus far from his stage play self, but with some of his 2019 anime characterization mixed in as well. This is one of those chapters which I wrote partially out of order and then filled in a bit later, but parts of this were actually some of the first scenes I wrote.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	5. Illusions and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the tags for content warnings.

They didn’t say another word for the rest of the trek up the hill. All things considered, it was probably for the best. Something was off with his elder brother, and Saburota’s comments certainly hadn’t helped with anything. Really, why would you ask someone to help you hunt a demon if you didn’t think they could do it? Or had he somehow failed to notice the swords sheathed in Hyakkimaru’s arms throughout the entirety of their escape from Asakura’s camp? Honestly. If he was having second thoughts, he ought to have said so.

Snapping at him had been a risky course of action. A demon that someone had hunted for over six months without success? It almost had to be one of the twelve. What if Saburota had decided not to take them to it after that? Would he then be responsible for his brother never regaining an arm or an eye? Having demons stalking him, trying to get a piece of his father’s deal, for the rest of his life?

“You said the demon ate your ma?” Dororo’s voice drifted out, barely more than a whisper, once they’d reached the top of the hill.

There was a pause. “Yeah. Even now, I can’t forget it. Her left hand was all that remained…” For a moment, he seemed far away. Then he swallowed hard. “No matter how many times I go after it, well, you saw how I end up.”

His eyes briefly met Tahomaru’s before he looked away. “Since then, it’s like an empty hole ripped open inside of me.”

Dororo’s fists curled as he stood taller, starting to step over and then thinking better of it. “Don’t worry! Bro’s strong! He’ll definitely avenge your mama!”

“Yeah,” a slight smile curled at the edge of his lip. “I’m counting on you.”

 _Oh, really? I thought you didn’t think we could handle it_ , Tahomaru resisted the urge to snap back. It was almost fortunate that Hyakkimaru had stopped paying attention, surveying over the clearing with his second sight.

“There’s a certain day that it comes here to feed,” Saburota continued, fingers tightening on the hilt of his own sword as Hyakkimaru lifted a forearm to his mouth. “And unless I’m mistaken…”

“It’s coming.” Hyakkimaru bit down, pulling his right arm loose and tossing it to Dororo.

Saburota’s expression twisted into an almost manic grin. “Today is that day.”

Not seconds later, something launched into the clearing, snarling and growling as Hyakkimaru rushed to meet it, moving so fast he almost couldn’t see what it was.

“What _is_ that thing?!” Dororo shrieked, and suddenly, Tahomaru wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell even _if_ it slowed down. A bulky head around wild tufts of fur and fangs, massive upper legs, and claws in the back, a tail that was just a bit too large—

“ _Go away!_ ” Tahomaru’s head whipped around in time to see the tail snaking towards Dororo, and he drew his brother’s sword, rushing to step between them if Hyakkimaru hadn’t leapt through and grabbed him first, rolling away.

But where was—?

There was a clang of metal on metal almost before he could register it. Saburota had struck at Hyakkimaru, who parried the strike and then swung to warn him away.

“What the hell?!” Dororo squeaked. “Why are you helping the demon? Didn’t it—”

As he stepped back, Saburota swayed, grinning almost affectionately at the beast. “Killing the demon won’t bring ma back…I realized that long ago…That’s why.” He readied for a second strike. “ _I’m taking others’ lives away instead!_ ”

 _Shit!_ Tahomaru cursed, darting in and out of the trees to try and lure at least the tail of the beast, swinging wherever it struck as Hyakkimaru wove around teeth and claws and human alike. If he could get to Saburota, take his focus onto himself, keep him away from his elder brother until he had found a way to kill the demon—or find some way to take Dororo and send him to safety—

Everything was moving too fast, the demon constantly twisting and no one seeming where they had been five seconds before, to the point that Tahomaru didn’t realize what was happening until he heard Dororo’s scream and the crumbling of the cliff, and a pang shot through him as though he’d been pierced by an arrow. Where everything had been too fast just seconds ago, now it seemed that time had nearly stopped.

He couldn’t get to them in time. Not past the demon and its watchdog. Not without sending himself over the edge with them. And then the spell was released and he watched them disappearing from his sight.

Tahomaru bit down hard on his lip to hold back an anguished cry. They would survive the fall. They had to. They’d survived plenty before this. Hyakkimaru had fallen from higher than that and been fine. And besides that…

Pressing one hand against his mouth to muffle his own breathing, and the other against his heart to stop it from pounding straight through his chest, he crouched low. The creature stood by the edge, growling and hissing. Its tail lashed the slightest bit too slowly as it stared out. Was it going to jump down there? Did it know he was still here?

If the tail could still track him…he needed to get out while it was still distracted. He needed to find his brothers. They were probably hurt. He needed to get to them before… He gripped the sword at his waist. Suppose they were trapped and he needed to defend them? Would he really be able to do anything when he could barely even fight a human at this point?

As he crept away, he heard Saburota’s voice, strangely calm. “I’ll bring the next one.”

Once he was far enough into the trees that it couldn’t chase him easily, he ran. He could navigate this. It was still early enough that he would have light, wouldn’t need someone else to guide him. He just needed to remember the way down, where that path was in relation to that ledge.

His sightless eye stung and he bit down on his finger to keep from reaching for it. If only he’d learned the aura sight—was that even possible for him? He shook his head. This was no time to get caught up in should-haves. His brothers were probably hurt. They probably needed him. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

He looked up, tracing where the rocks had crumbled. That depth wasn’t the easiest for him to visualize. But he could look for debris, where there was fallen rock and dirt. Perhaps the river’s flow would also be interrupted, and he would be able to track from where it was blocked.

It felt almost wrong, tracking them like animals. But it was different, he reminded himself. He had no intention of shooting them with a bow or cutting them down. It was the same as Hyogo and Mutsu finding him. Or searching for a captured ally.

A captured ally…perhaps that was the best term for it. Trapped behind enemy borders, not much time to save them—especially not if that _thing_ was also trailing them. He dearly hoped it had assumed they were dead, that it lacked the ability to stalk through the tightly-clustered trees here.

He’d gotten turned around once or twice, having to reorient himself before proceeding, but then he had heard the sound of Dororo’s voice, increasingly tinged with fear even as he tried to disguise it. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ll get out of here…it’ll be fine…”

As well as the sound of running water, and increasingly agitated noises from Hyakkimaru. Not quite screaming, but definitely starting to build to it.

“Brother!” he called out, rushing over to them.

They didn’t look hurt. Not seriously, anyway. They were both awake. They seemed coherent—Dororo was talking and Hyakkimaru was standing and moving normally. But the rocks around them effectively created a small, pond-like hole, which was rapidly filling with water. It had already risen to Dororo’s chest, and he was sitting down because—

Tahomaru saw the rock pinning his arm, immediately grabbing for it and trying to move it. “Damn it!” He couldn’t get a grip on it.

The water was up to his neck. “We have to…if we could stop the water flowing in it would—” He gripped the sides of his head as a strangled whine spilled from Hyakkimaru’s lips and Dororo bit back a whimper.

Dammit! He couldn’t think! _Damn it all!_ He threw himself uselessly against the stream from the rock, spitting as it sprayed into his mouth and nose.

“It’s okay…it’s okay…” At this point, Tahomaru wasn’t certain anyone would have believed it. Here he was, water up to his knees, frantically trying to block the flow while Hyakkimaru strained against the rock that was keeping Dororo trapped. And Dororo could only tilt his head back, trying to keep water from rushing into his mouth. _Dammit! Dammit!_

If he’d just gotten here sooner. He could have…maybe he could have pulled the rock and gotten Dororo out before the hole had filled up…He could have…

There was a strained scream and a splintering crunch, an awful sound of metal against stone, and Tahomaru’s head jerked in the direction he’d heard it from. A bloody splotch marred the rock’s smooth surface, and his brother’s sword poked out from inside his forearm. No…

“Let me help, I can—” He stood, wading as fast as he dared to get to him. “We can push together, will that—?”

A desperate gurgle sounded below them and Hyakkimaru screamed, straining harder and harder. He wasn’t thinking—hell, _he_ could barely think! If he could try to get Dororo’s head above the water, hold him at an angle that—but then maybe he should—

 _Thunk!_ He almost didn’t hear it above his screaming, except that the force of it knocked him hard enough to interrupt it. _Thunk!_ His screaming was turning choked and strangled-sounding. _Thunk! Thunk!_

And then in that moment, his mind registered just _what_ he was doing and he shot upright. “ _Don’t hurt yourself!_ ” he shrieked, grabbing him almost reflexively, nerves too burnt out to care about the swords beneath his arms. But it was almost as if Hyakkimaru couldn’t recognize him, and he threw his head back hard enough to break Tahomaru’s nose if he hadn’t ducked to one side.

“ _Brother!_ Brother, please!” _Please, I can’t lose you, too!_ “We’ll figure something out, we’ll—”

Hardly thinking, hardly breathing, he grabbed his right forearm, pulling the sheath loose and grasping his upper arm.

“I’ll aim you, okay? Just do what I do!” His mind was racing. It wasn’t going to work. He was doing pretty much everything he wasn’t supposed to. He’d be lucky if Hyakkimaru didn’t start struggling again, still biting back those blood-curdling screams.

But he let him put his hand on his back and push them below the water. Dororo flailed next to them as Tahomaru forced his eye open. For this, he needed sight—Find the crack in the rocks—maneuver Hyakkimaru’s blade into it— _Dammit_ , his lungs felt tight! He hadn’t taken a good enough breath. He was going to have to surface before—

Something slid and he released the breath he was holding as he knocked into Hyakkimaru—he’d at least figured out what he was doing and was trying to—The rocks started to tumble down, pushing water up his nose, he lunged forward, grabbed Dororo as he sucked in a mouthful of water, pulling them back— _something had snapped_ —

His mind didn’t register the exact moment they crawled out onto the dry earth. Maybe Hyakkimaru had pushed them. But he heard Dororo coughing and sputtering, and felt his own wet hacking as he spat up water. “Brother,” he forced the strained words out. “It’s okay, see? He’s going to be—”

Anything he had thought to say died in his throat as he sat up and saw the expression on his brother’s face—or rather, the lack thereof. His mouth hung partway open, brows lowered, no sign that anything was registering to him. He didn’t have to look at the rest of him to know he was near completely rigid.

His right arm was completely unsheathed, the sword snapped not-quite-cleanly, while his left wrist dangled uselessly around the unbroken blade of his left arm. Absently, he thought it was for the best that he hadn’t heard the moment the right one broke, though he could still feel his heart beginning to race.

“It’s okay,” he continued, as much for himself as for either of them. “Dororo’s okay.” Something was winding tighter and tighter in his brother’s stance. “Everything’s going to be f—”

In a sudden, harsh motion, he bit down on the bandages and ripped his left arm free, turning and bolting up the hill.

“ _Brother!_ ” Tahomaru yelped, almost pushing himself up to go after him until Dororo coughed once more, retching up water, and then groaned. He turned, crouching back at the smaller boy’s side. “Dororo…”

“Wh…where’s bro…?” he croaked, too drained even for the spike of anxiety he must have felt.

“My,” an older, gravely voice called. “I had thought I heard a familiar voice.”

In an instant, Tahomaru had crouched protectively over Dororo, who shook his head. “I know this guy…”

“You boys certainly have a knack for getting yourselves into trouble, don’t you?” he observed, the slightest note of grief in his tone. “Though I wonder if I didn’t arrive too late…”

“What do you mean, monk?” Tahomaru demanded, struggling to keep the shiver out of his voice.

But the old man only gazed up the hill, following the trail of Hyakkimaru’s discarded arms and then beyond that. It was only then that he noticed the white fog clouding over his eyes, and something stabbed into every nerve in his body as he shot upright.

“Please, tell me what you mean!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the other first scene I wrote, and then built back from. Starting from everyone being trapped and panicking, because grad school.
> 
> At times, I think that Tahomaru has a distorted image of his own ability to do things, and unfairly rates himself based on that image, because of his position, what he thinks he should be, and how he thinks he is or isn't meeting that. He's quick to jump to extremes. In some ways, I think Hyakkimaru also has the same issue, thinking that he has to shoulder things himself even in situations where that may not be the case, or at least it shouldn't be the case.
> 
> At this point, I would also say that all of them have been under extended periods of stress on some level, so that would also cause issues. Admittedly, choosing to break one of Hyakkimaru's swords rather than having it be Biwa's is because there's something else I wanted to write, and since I don't have a duel with Tahomaru to break it, I needed something else to happen to it instead.
> 
> A lot of the dialogue is closer to the stage play version compared to the anime, since that's what I was largely watching when I wrote the demon battle, even though I did decide to include some aspects of the anime version as well. The rocks, near-drowning, and Hyakkimaru panicking and hurting himself were things from the anime, which were not taken from the stage play probably at least in part because of difficulties staging that (water onstage. generally not a good idea, said the techie with firsthand experience), and the rest because it's a stage play and we have like 45 minutes left in the runtime to get everything we want and wrap up every subplot or at least the important ones. 
> 
> I'm hoping to get the next one edited and posted sometime this week. 
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	6. What Makes a Man?

Hyakkimaru tore through the brush and trees, hardly feeling as they scratched at his feet and legs and at the same time feeling like they were tearing him open. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered. Dororo had—Dororo had almost—and if he hadn’t had Tahomaru there, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. No, he _hadn’t_ been able to do anything about it, just let himself be pushed around like some kind of doll!

But Dororo was breathing. So he hadn't caused him to--

But that monster was still alive. He needed to kill it, fast. He needed arms, real arms—before that moment, when he’d felt it splintering under him, heard Dororo gurgling below him—he’d never _hated_ his prosthetics before.

A low rumble of thunder rattled the ground below him. He could hear the fall of rain. But it didn’t feel like rain. Instead it felt like dozens of tiny stingers sticking into him wherever they found skin. Why did it feel so bad right now?

He bit back the urge to scream. It wouldn't make it get off him. He couldn’t do this now. He needed the demon dead _now_.

“Oh? So you’re still alive?” That hated voice peaked with curiosity. Yet his soul barely registered alongside the deep, disgusting red of the demon. “Well, I guess that makes things easier.”

What things? Easier how? This guy wasn’t making any sense. It didn’t matter. He just needed to kill the demon.

“Hm…You’ve got an empty hole in here, too. Don’t you?” he mused, gesturing to his chest, about where his heart would be.

…And just what was _that_ supposed to mean? The demons hadn’t gotten his heart…

It didn’t matter. He was going to kill the demon. Crouching to give himself more to push off of, he lunged.

With a growl, the demon leapt over him, tail slashing and hissing. Which was not something tails were supposed to do? Oh, of course. It had the second head. Two demons? One demon? He wasn’t sure.

It didn’t matter. Once he defeated it, it wouldn’t matter if it was two or one or anything else.

A large paw swung down, and he brought his sword up to counter it, taking most of it on his arm and rolling once he hit the ground. Was it broken? No. Good. He needed to be more careful with his swords now. Especially since he couldn’t swap them for the one normally at his belt.

So attacking from the front was out. It could jump too high. He was faster, but only just barely. It would be better if his skin didn’t feel so thin against the rain and it wasn’t hissing in his ears. If he could have just killed it the first time instead of falling from the ledge and—

He narrowly dodged a strike from the tail. Oh. Maybe he could get around to the back, take the tail out first, go from there.

There was motion on his left and he swung. Saburota. Right. _Why_ would he sit back and let him kill it? So he had a head with claws on one side, a longer head-tail on the other, and this guy constantly circling, looking for any opening to attack.

“What’s with you?” he mused. He might have sounded casual, but Hyakkimaru could hear him wavering just below the surface.

Something about it made his skin crawl, which felt even worse against the thinning rain. Just what did he mean by that?

It didn’t matter. If he wasn’t going to fight him, then he’d just focus on the demon. He narrowly dodged a thump from its tail and then launched himself, latching onto the large, scaly appendage and driving his left blade in repeatedly, until it began to lash and he let himself fall, rolling away before it could slam down on top of him.

How long had he been at this? His knees were starting to burn from all the crouching, rolling, leaping. The rain had grown even thinner. Maybe it would stop soon. His head felt like everything was screaming at him—even though only the demon and Saburota would have been able to.

At some point, he sliced through the tail of the creature, and it slithered around towards him until he drove a blade through it with a sickening pop. In that moment, he had to stop himself from gagging. Why had that happened? He wasn’t normally bothered by…

It didn’t matter. At least the demon seemed to be wearing down as well. It wasn’t jumping anymore, and he prepared himself to leap. He’d be able to land on top of it now.

The man lunged for him, swinging his sword almost frantically as he parried it, the clash ringing in his ears. At least he’d managed to knock it away. He wouldn’t be able to go after him again.

“No…you can’t…Why don’t you cry? Why don’t you scream? _Beg for your life?_ ”

Any of those things required his voice to work. Besides, there was no point in crying and begging against a demon. It wouldn't stop them from eating a person.

He turned back, preparing to attack the head.

“If you don’t, then we aren’t the same…” There was something almost desperate in that.

 _I don’t want to be like you!_ That was what Tahomaru would have said. That was what _he_ would have said, if he could make his mouth form words.

The creature lunged for him again, but this time, he vaulted upwards, springing off of coarse fur and bringing his swords down into its head. He knew the right one was damaged, which should have made it harder, yet he barely felt the cut.

He could feel it sinking down, dropping to the ground, yet somehow it barely registered.

Jump down. Step back. That was what he was supposed to do, once the demon was dead. Or dying. Not dead yet.

Right. He could make sure…

He raised his swords once more. “ _You can’t!_ ” A much larger force collided with him, knocking him to the ground.

 _Don’t touch me!_ he wanted to scream. Yet no sound would come out.

Somewhere in the edge of his sight, he saw gray retracting, reaching forwards, and yet he could only reflexively block with his swords, couldn’t even wince as the left one went straight through Saburota’s hand.

He wasn’t moving, but he knew humans didn’t die from having their hands cut. Then did other people lock up the way he did, too?

“I wanted to be like you,” he whispered. “I wanted that _so badly_ …”

He felt him shifting and flinched reflexively, bringing the broken edge of his sword to his wrist as long fingers gripped his chin and forced his head to turn towards his face. If he didn’t let go, he would cut it off. It may have been broken, but there was still some blade left. He could make that cut.

“But…I know that won’t be possible, now…Heh…” He turned his head like he was one of the creatures he used to pull from the stream. “Just what _are_ you?” The weight on him shifted backwards, groaning and biting back a scream as he wrenched his hand back up the blade.

A whimper escaped Saburota as he stood up, blood running down the blade, and the demon above him growled. Definitely not dead, then. He needed to get up.

“Very well then,” he spoke, his voice suddenly strong in spite of the pain lacing through it. “You can have _me_!” He turned to the demon, throwing his arms wide. “Go on, then! Eat, _eat_ , and then kill this guy!”

With a snarl, the creature lunged forward and Hyakkimaru scrambled back, flipping himself over and staggering to his feet as he heard a wet, sickening crunch. It wasn’t more than a few seconds, but by the time he turned around, the creature was shifting, changing, growing more limbs, more heads which all roared at once.

And suddenly it was faster than before, reaching farther than before. It surged forwards, moving all around in all different directions at once. Hyakkimaru leapt to one side, slashing through a head that followed him. Another ploughed into him from a different direction and he stabbed forward and up to keep it from biting into his stomach.

But something was wrong even beyond that—the soul! Flecks of white dotted along inside the red, almost the opposite of his own. Because it had eaten a human? But plenty of demons ate humans and didn’t—

He jumped, weaving through the lashing tendrils as the creature swarmed at him, waving around from all sides. But something larger collided with him and for a second, he flailed before turning and slashing at it. A prickling sensation traveled along his leg, pulling strangled sounds from his throat. “A-ah- _aah_!” His skin was _burning_. He had to get out of there!

He turned and pushed for the spaces of black, anywhere that wasn’t filled with red. But the red kept trying to grab him, trying to pull him back in. Somewhere at the edge of his hearing, there was a mocking laugh. Saburota?! Was he still conscious inside that thing?

And then something had latched onto him, pulling him towards the mass of red, and the thing roared until his head spun.

 _I’m not a demon! I’m **not a demon!**_ It couldn’t eat him! He needed to get back to Dororo and Tahomaru! He needed— ** _I’m not a demon!_**

All this came out in a strained, agonized scream, ripping from his throat as he pushed forwards, cutting at anything that even felt like it might touch him. But everything was getting tighter and tighter, like ropes trying to drag him, catching his legs, his arms, his neck—

Something snapped and he stumbled out into the black, creature still growling and spitting behind him. He sucked in gulps of air—how had he not realized he’d been choking?—and spun back, driving his swords through the heads that shot after him.

It was the heads. He needed to get the heads. Not just one or two, but all of them.

They were going to burn him again. They were going to grab and bite and roar until his whole body stung and his mind went blank. He didn’t want to take any more of that. He _couldn’t_ take any more of it. But…if he didn’t, then once it had eaten him, would it eat Dororo, too? Tahomaru wouldn’t be able to fight it in this form, and if the demon ate _him_ , then…

His blood ran cold as he looked straight into the center of the beast and snarled, surging forward so suddenly it actually shrank back for a moment, slicing through head after head, hardly feeling where it burned his legs and face. The only thing that mattered was the heads.

The creature was trying to back up, to circle around him. It was faster than he was now, probably stronger, too. But it wouldn’t matter. Not if he could get all the heads before it landed a hit.

He slashed upwards with his left arm and raised his right to block as two heads snaked after him. Once the left was severed, he pulled back with his right arm, turning and then swinging the left down.

Leaping up to avoid the next two, he brought the blades down on a third as he landed. Crossing his arms as the next went straight for him, pushing him back—strange, hadn’t it wanted him in the center before?

Duck, let it pass over him. Turn, slash up and around.

The creature was actively fleeing now. Really? Hadn’t it been almost more than happy to kill him just moments ago?

But if he let it get away, then it might eat Dororo or Tahomaru. _Give them back_. And besides that, he needed the limb it had—and he was certain it had one of his. He wouldn’t have had so much trouble with it otherwise.

His bones burned as he pressed on, taking off any heads that tried to stop him. He needed his limbs. _Give them back._ He needed to stop it from getting to Dororo.

He needed to stop the burning all over his skin.

The strike connected without him realizing he had made it. “Oh…I get it, now…” A voice rasped.

Something hissed behind him and he turned and cut down the tendrils that snaked upwards. His shoulders felt numb, yet his prosthetics dug in at the joints. It shouldn’t have been both at once.

The demon began to crawl away, pushing itself up as if it still had a man inside somewhere.

And something about that made his insides crawl. “Give it back…” It had been repeating in his head almost without his knowing the words to put to it.

The demon merely chuckled dismissively. Like it knew something he didn’t. Like everyone _always_ knew something he didn’t. He stabbed into it again, striking it down with the flat of his right blade. “ _Give it back…_ ”

He was starting to sound like a child, whining because a toy had been taken from them. But…his body wasn’t a toy…just because…just because he was…

“I get it…” The figure choked, spitting out a wet glob. “You’re…”

“Ungh!” Hyakkimaru stabbed again, striking several times for good measure. It needed to die. It needed to die _now_ before…so he could get…

Yet it still struggled to its feet. Was that man really still…inside that thing, was he still…

There was the slightest note of peace, even satisfaction, in that strained, rattling voice. “ _You’re not human…_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feeling of having your skin being too thin is something which I have sometimes experienced, usually in response to allergy or illness, but sometimes in response to sensory overload as well.
> 
> Most of this part of the battle is based on the stage play's version of the events, though from Hyakkimaru's perspective I'm sure it reads like I was putting Princess Mononoke on repeat again. I really loved how they represented the combined form there, and I do somewhat regret that I was never able to work Saburota's spear fighting into my version of it, since it was one of the big things that made Saburota's duel stand out compared to the ones against Tanosuke and Tahomaru. 
> 
> I wanted to get some more of Hyakkimaru's reaction to all this. Since he does have a very strong reaction to Dororo's near death experience, and is immediately treated like he's becoming a demon by the anime's narrative over it. I wanted to focus a bit on everyone's reactions to what's happened, of course, but I also needed to follow the flow of the action, too. 
> 
> Also there's probably going to be an AU of the AU at some point for this, because watching the stage play again, I really wanted the non-antagonistic Saburota I got baited with, and as much as I love the stage play for making me upset that he turned out to be a bad guy, I still want what I got advertised to me.
> 
> On an unrelated note, this chapter title was almost the title of the fic. However, I felt that this fic as a whole wasn't about the question of Hyakkimaru's humanity as much as it was about each member of the group trying to shoulder way more than they should and the consequences of that. At least, that was my intent when I titled it. We'll see where it ends up.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	7. Picking up the Pieces

Dororo’s entire body ached as he rushed up the hill, but he had to press on in spite of his own body and Tahomaru’s protests. His big bro would be finished with the demon by now, and he’d want his arms back. He’d probably need some help getting cleaned up, too, if the size of that demon was any indication. Seemed like that would hold a lot of blood, and knowing his bro…

He caught the smell of blood and doubled over to keep from throwing up, breathing through his teeth. Why was there so much? And where was his bro?

“Dororo?” Tahomaru stopped beside him, hand hovering just above his back.

Shaking his head, Dororo spat on the ground. It wasn’t _that_. He wasn’t dead. He probably just made a mess of things during the fight. He’d just have to follow the blood—and wasn’t _that_ a pleasant thought—and at the end of it, he’d find his bro, waiting for him to put his arms back on—or maybe he’d have a new arm. It would be nice if it was the left, since his arm splintered up. But maybe it would be better if it was the right, since his sword broke…

Forcing himself to repeat those thoughts, he stood and ran. _Don’t wince. It’s not his blood. He’ll have a new arm and he’ll need some help getting cleaned up._

Yet as he followed it, there was more and more. So much more. And there were limbs and heads…had it had so many before? But those couldn’t be his bro’s, because Hyakkimaru’s limbs didn’t look like that. Were they something else besides a head?

 _Breathe_ , he reminded himself. He wasn’t dead. There was no way he could be dead.

When he reached the end of the trail, his heart stopped. Hyakkimaru stood just off from something…it looked almost like a man—like that guy from before—except there was so much blood, so many extra fleshy bits barely hanging on, like pulsating organs or… _Had he become a demon?_ Separate from the other one? _Could a person become a demon?_

The creature swayed, looking at his bro with unfocused eyes. His mouth moved, yet the blood pounding in Dororo’s ears drowned out every other sound.

He hadn’t heard the words, but Hyakkimaru must have. The instant that mouth stopped moving, he staggered, turned, and lunged. “ _It’s my body…It’s my body! Give it back! Give it back!_ ”

He struck again and again, movements uncoordinated, screaming like he didn’t know any other words, and Dororo felt paralyzed. It was just like the temple. Just like with Mio.

Dororo felt his own scream building up in his throat, and swallowing a lump, he threw down the arms and scrambled to wrap around Hyakkimaru’s middle, squeezing tight. “No, don’t!” he screamed. “ _Please, don’t! Bro!_ ”

Don’t become a demon. Don’t go somewhere I can’t get you back. Don’t get stuck like this forever. _Please._

“ _Give it back! It’s my body!_ ” His voice broke and all he could do was scream. Up close, he could feel the shudder just underneath.

Seconds later, he felt another force latch on, smashing him between them. “Brother, please! It’s over!” _Tahomaru!_ “Dororo’s fine! It’s over!”

“It’s okay, bro! I’m okay!” Was that it? He thought Dororo had died just like…

Just then, Tahomaru tucked his head against his back, shifted to wrap his arms around his chest, and yanked. “It’s _over_ …”

The force seemed to shake something loose, and Hyakkimaru stumbled. “Give it back… _Give it back, it’s mine…_ ” The sound dissolved into a strained whine and he dropped, going limp. “ _Give it back…_ ”

“Breathe.” Tahomaru’s tone made it much less of an order than it was as he moved a hand to press between his shoulders. Did it also scare him? Did he think his bro was a demon now? Or was he the same as Dororo, worried that they’d never get him back from wherever that state took him…

No. He’d make sure they got him back. He squirmed between them, enough for Tahomaru to get the message and let him crawl out, bringing himself around in front of Hyakkimaru and reaching for his face.

“I’m okay, bro…” He winced at the flinch just below his touch. Maybe his head hurt from when he hit the rock earlier? But before he could think to modify it, Hyakkimaru crashed his forehead against his own.

Fine, then. He needed this more than it hurt. He barely even hissed as Dororo began to rub their foreheads together. “See? I’m okay. It’s over.”

He was still shaking, weak, tight shivers. That’s right. These were a little like his own panic attacks—at least in this one way—they were always scarier from inside than out.

None of them were quite sure just how long they stayed like that, Dororo pressed against Hyakkimaru’s forehead, and Tahomaru against his back. Sometimes, it would almost seem like they could move, and then something would start up again, and he’d go tense, soft _give it back, give it back_ falling from his lips.

“It’s okay. It’s over. I’m okay…” Dororo kept repeating, not knowing what else he _could_ say. Even if it was a lie. Even if things _weren't_ okay.

But when he’d finally stopped, he only stared blankly ahead, like someone had put him in a trance, body almost limp.

Tahomaru had moved first. “We need to get you cleaned up. Can you stand?”

Only then did Dororo notice the blood seeping through his bro’s clothing, all over his skin and practically dripping from his hair. How much of it was from the monster, and how much was his?

Hyakkimaru didn’t move, but Dororo stood anyway. “We’re gonna get your arms back on, then we’ll clean you off. Is that okay?”

He wouldn’t answer, but there was a slight shift and he allowed Tahomaru to lift him to his feet, only numbly holding out his arms for their lower halves.

“I can wrap up your left one for you. That way, you won’t be able to tell it splintered.” He wasn’t entirely sure which of them had spoken.

They had led him to a stream, as far as they could from where… _that_ had happened. It was slow enough, it didn’t sound like _that_ , but Dororo felt himself tensing up anyway, gripping tighter with the arm wrapped around his bro just to prove he could.

Hyakkimaru let them guide him to a sitting position, staring at the ground in front of him the entire time.

Tahomaru wouldn’t let Dororo near the water, and really, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get in this soon after. He soaked strips of cloth and handed them off to him, letting him scrub away the blood he’d gotten on himself. Dark bruises mottled along the skin just below his shoulder, broken only by the scrapes where he’d pulled against it. He hadn’t thought the sword had been in any place to nick him—not that he would have registered if it had, not with his lungs burning and his pulse racing—but maybe…Either way, it wasn’t like he was going to tell his bro about that.

As for Hyakkimaru, he simply let Tahomaru maneuver him.

“Brother, can I get you out of your clothes? I need to wash them, and then you can have them back,” he said, watching for any response, but he didn’t move to help him get him out of them, nor did he resist as they were slipped off of him.

Sometimes, in the past, he had tracked them as they’d washed his clothes, turning his head so he could watch. Or he’d put his hands over theirs, letting himself feel the way it was done. That was not the case this day.

Once Tahomaru was satisfied that the blood was out, he draped it over a nearby tree branch, then turned and crouched beside him again. “Can I clean the blood off of you now, brother?”

No response. Tahomaru sighed, raking a hand through his hair in a jagged motion—he was probably stopping himself from pressing into his eye. “All right. Let me know if anything hurts.”

And with that, he began to scrub the blood from his skin, sometimes turning him, sometimes moving his arm or leg, turning his head, leaning him forwards or backwards. Each time, he told him what he was doing, asked if it was okay, reminded him to let him know if it hurt. He never responded, only barely moved his arm or leg when asked.

“I need to get the wound on your forehead. Will you let me know if I hurt you?”

No response, though he did flinch whenever he made contact.

Once that was done, Tahomaru reached for the tie that held his hair. Then he hesitated. “Brother?” He already knew how this would turn out. “I need to take your hair down for a minute, to get the blood out. Can I untie your hair for a bit?”

No response. Tahomaru untied his hair and tilted him back, trying to comb the water through long black strands, wincing whenever his fingers caught.

“I’m sorry, brother…” No response.

Dororo wished he could have told him this was something that happened sometimes, that this wasn’t anything to worry about and everything would be fine soon enough. Except…he wasn’t sure that it would. He’d only seen this happen once or twice before, and then, the stuff that led up to it had been pretty bad. So he couldn’t say when he’d come out of it, if he’d be able to speak or walk or fight for a bit, or how long it would be until he could do those things again.

It was almost like they’d gone back to the earliest days, when he would barely even make sounds, and talking was completely out of the question. It was only _because_ of those early days that Dororo knew he could hear him at all.

“Dororo?” Tahomaru’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he shook his head, turning and watching as he finished tying his hair back. It was looser than what his bro would have liked, but Dororo could fix it later. “Could you help me wrap his arm? I can keep it in place, just wrap as tight as you can.”

“Y-yeah…” he swallowed, reaching to take the splintered limb. There was something strangely uncomfortable about doing it this way. Why? It wasn’t like he’d never done this before. When his foot had been bitten off, he’d been completely unconscious. As his stomach churned, he told himself it was because of what almost happened earlier.

Once he had a hold of it, Tahomaru took it in both hands, biting down hard on his lip as he forced the pieces back into place. Dororo wound the bandages around, tight enough that they would have cut into skin. They needed to be this tight, he told himself. Otherwise, his arm might just crumble off again. Or his wrist would flop around, and _that_ image stressed him out more than he’d expected.

_Breathe._

When he had finished, he took an extra strip and wrapped it around his wrist and thumb. It wouldn’t do much. He probably still wouldn’t be able to use that hand very well, but to anyone who wasn’t paying attention, it would look like he was just hurt, not that there was a sword underneath. And it would flop around less, which might make him feel better when he got back to himself.

“How’s that, bro? Is that good?” he asked.

No response. Tahomaru looked it over once, then nodded. It would have to do.

As he went to clean himself off, Dororo slipped back around behind his bro. “Hey, I’m gonna fix your hair for you. I think your brother made it this way ‘cause that’s how _he_ does his.” Or maybe he was just afraid of hurting him again. Hyakkimaru wasn’t exactly tender-headed, but, well, it wasn’t like that would ever have come up. Or like Tahomaru ever thought he _wasn’t_ going to break him. He really couldn’t figure out what ran through _either_ of their heads sometimes.

He wished he’d heard what the other guy said that set him off so badly. Had it just been more of what almost happened to _him_ , or was there something else?

But then, it wasn’t like Dororo’d never had close calls against the demons before. Or like Hyakkimaru had never gotten freaked out before. Even when it was something he couldn’t deal with, the two of them could usually get him down from it. At least before he seriously hurt himself. And he could usually still _respond_ after, if not in words.

It was almost definitely something else. Or hell, maybe just everything, _plus_ something else, if it was anything like how it worked for Dororo.

With that thought, he finished tying his hair, then ran back around in front of him, latching tight against his chest. A shiver raced through his body just then, and for a moment, he worried he was going to slip back. “It’s okay, bro,” he whispered, as much for himself as for him. “We’re okay.”

There was barely any movement, but he felt the shift, as though his arms wanted to wrap around him, slowly, numbly making their way. He didn’t move exactly, but it was a response. And more of one than flinching.

They weren’t going to lose him, Dororo thought, burying his face against him. It was just everything shaking him up. He wasn’t going to lose anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On my Tumblr I mentioned that Dororo has the same coping strategy as 2003 Leonardo from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Which is to say he doesn't, and then he wonders why everything crashes down on top of him when it finally gets to be too much. The main difference being that Leonardo throws himself into training, and Dororo throws himself into being the bright-eyed younger sibling or the mouthy master thief. And is eight years old or so. And I don't think either of the others are the best about getting him not to do that, since both of them have their own things that serve the same purpose.
> 
> Dororo has only seen him have this kind of reaction once or twice before, while Tahomaru has seen him build to it, but they've always managed to get him down from it before he crosses that threshold. I also don't know that they really have any plan for what to do if that threshold does get crossed, only how to try to avoid it. 
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think.  
> ~Rin


	8. Crossroads of Nothing

Sometime later, Tahomaru returned. “Brother,” he startled slightly. “You’re awake…” He started, stopped, pressed his hand into the side of his head—barely avoiding his eye. “We should…we need to find somewhere safe for the night. Can you stand?”

His movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, but he still pushed himself to his feet, immediately holding out an arm for Dororo, who pressed himself against his side. If he could have, he would have been carrying him. He was almost certain of that.

“All right,” Tahomaru nodded. “Can you walk?”

He took a few halting steps, brow lowered as if he needed to concentrate. It might look like he had hurt himself, but maybe Tahomaru would get it. Sure, he himself hadn’t seen this happen more than once or twice before, but it seemed like it took a lot out of Hyakkimaru. Moving slower wasn’t anything to worry about. And, Dororo reminded himself, it wasn’t like he’d gotten his left leg more than a week or so ago. He was probably still adjusting to that, too.

“All right, then.” Tahomaru adjusted himself, bringing his arm across his brother’s shoulders to steady him, waiting for a moment to see if he would shrug him off. “We should find somewhere to stay, at least for the night. I don’t know if there’s any village nearby, but we’re going to need something that can at least help us against demons and…”

“Right, yeah,” Dororo cut him off. His head felt fuzzy, almost like something else was doing everything while he just watched from somewhere behind his eyes.

If this was anything like what happened after his fight with Maimai-Onba before, then talking wouldn’t do much good for him. But then if Tahomaru kept asking questions…wasn’t that because he needed to get out of his own head? He wished he knew what he should do.

The place they found was an old temple not too far from there. The roof was a little cracked, but from what Tahomaru could gather, it probably wouldn’t crash in on them if they stayed there for a night or two. Besides, a temple was probably their best option. Hyakkimaru almost always picked temples whenever he had the choice. Hell, Dororo had even slept under the gate of a collapsed shrine once or twice because Hyakkimaru had planted there and refused to move, and nothing had happened then.

He’d tried to ask him about it once, but it had been early on. He hadn’t had his voice for very long, and had only stared at him in response. Maybe he should have asked it sometime that they were actually under one, in hindsight. Then he might have understood what he meant. Dororo suspected that if he brought it up again, the answer would be somewhere along the lines of “Don’t know.”

Then Dororo would ask if it was because he didn’t know why he did it, or because he needed words. And probably, he would answer, “Words.”

He’d have to ask him about it later.

For now, though, they walked him into the temple. Almost immediately, he found a corner and lowered himself to the floor. Right, yeah. Probably the best thing right now was for him to sleep it off.

Heh…maybe it would work for him, too. Dororo crawled next to him, trying to wedge himself under his arm until he shifted enough to let him press against his chest. He focused on his heartbeat, the warmth radiating off of him. If he could feel that, it was proof that they were still alive.

There was a shift moments later as tense arm muscles wrapped over the both of them, nudging Hyakkimaru into him just a bit. Oh. If Tahomaru needed to cling, then things were really not good.

No. Breathe. Everything would be okay. Just sleep it off.

He awakened several times throughout the night, sucking in air like he was choking. His lungs felt tight, and he let out a whimper as he pressed against his big bro. He didn’t stir awake and speak to him, but he felt his arms shifting. It was hard to tell if he was awake or not—he’d forgotten to close his eyes again, not that Dororo hadn’t forgotten about it, too—but he felt himself steadying his breathing, shifting his right arm to bring up to loop around his neck. If he could move it, then he was fine.

He felt Hyakkimaru shift, curling just a little more, until his cheek pressed against his hair. Maybe he was awake, and just not talking. Which was…probably not good, actually. After that fight—especially _after_ that fight—he really needed to be resting. But if he didn’t have to be up all alone, it wasn’t like he was going to complain.

Everything would be okay. The words rang hollow in his mind, but he had to hang onto them. It would be fine.

Dororo squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face against his bro’s chest. It would be okay. If he could feel the warmth, then they were still alive.

* * *

As he stirred awake, there were a few things his mind registered. The first was that he was tucked against his elder brother’s back, his forehead pressing against his shoulder blade. The slow, even movement let him know he was probably still asleep. Which, Tahomaru thought, was for the best, considering the kind of day they’d had before.

The second was that, where his arm was draped over him, he could feel the top of Dororo’s head. He was just the tiniest bit too still to be truly asleep, but not still enough to make him think anything was wrong.

Though it wasn’t like Hyakkimaru to be the last one up. Not without being seriously hurt and even then…

Just what had happened to him yesterday?

Was it all panic over Dororo? Maybe it could be. He’d been shouting _give it back_ over and over. That part wasn’t too different from that time he’d seen him crouched and murmuring _not a demon_. (He _was_ going to do better than he had then. Breathe.) If he’d gotten it stuck in his head that the kid was going to die then maybe…

But it was also a little like what happened in the Three Cedars village, when he’d tried to fight with the villagers. (If he’d gotten there sooner yesterday, could he have stopped him from getting to that point?)

But then…after that, it had almost looked like the moment when he regained his spine (and if he felt any pride at no longer having to swallow bile over it, he wasn’t about to admit it). The screaming, collapsing after, barely being able to move…

He _hadn’t_ regained anything, had he? It didn’t make sense for him to scream “Give it back!” if that was the case, but he might have meant something else too, like _give Dororo back_ or _give them back_. Could he have meant it that way? He didn’t think that was the case, but he’d messed up so many other things in that time that maybe he _had_ somehow managed to wash and dress him without noticing—

No. Breathe. He could fix that. If he’d messed that up, he could check.

Sitting up slowly so as not to wake him up, Tahomaru’s gaze swept over Hyakkimaru’s arms—no, they were definitely still his prosthetics. He could remember crunching one back into place, the distinctive _clink_ of the other being slid over the other. Really, it was a little silly to have questioned it.

Everything had just shaken him up a bit too much for his liking.

For good measure, he sat up a little further, checking over Hyakkimaru’s legs. Both were still there. Good. He wasn’t sure what he would have done with himself if he’d somehow managed to miss his brother losing a leg. There were the usual small, shallow scratches. His ankles were still their normal shape—he wouldn’t even have been able to tell he’d broken the right one before, if he hadn’t already known about it. But there was something else there, too—reddened marks. Almost like a burn or a rash.

Alarm shot through him and he forced his hand to his side. No. He wasn’t going to do this now. _Think._ Had they been anywhere they could have contracted—no. Breathe. The marks were fading. Not bright and angry. They looked much closer to a burn than to a rash. Almost like he’d been tangled in a rope and pulled free too quickly.

The demon? Had he gotten them from the demon? If that was the case, then wasn’t there something they needed to do about it before—

“Don’t worry.” He jolted at the sound of a voice behind him, whipping around to crouch in front of his brothers. “Seems you’ve gotten past the worst of it. Though I wouldn’t say you’re out of the woods yet.”

Something clenched inside him. “My brother isn’t a demon,” he snapped.

The ridge of the old priest’s forehead crinkled. “I hadn’t said he was,” he answered, casting a pointed look to where the marks were fading on his ankles, and Tahomaru wanted to shift in front of him.

It wasn’t as though he was a threat. Dororo said he knew him. He’d seemingly come to help when he’d thought they were trapped. But still…

The way he looked at them even though his eyes were white, the fact that he had thought to come and help, that he could recognize their voices…even that Hyakkimaru knew what “green” was…

“You can see with your soul too,” Tahomaru swallowed. “Can’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, even though it probably should have been. The man’s lip curled in response, not quite a smile, but somewhere in that vicinity.

“Is that why you followed us here?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice down.

“Sounds like you’ve got more on your mind than an old man’s sight,” he chuckled. “Perhaps you would rather discuss it outside?”

 _Yes_. “No.” It was tempting to accept, to get out of the ruined temple while Hyakkimaru was still sleeping. He wouldn’t appreciate it if the noise woke him up. More than that, Tahomaru didn’t know if he would be any better once he woke up. Wasn’t it better to keep him asleep for now? But however much Dororo knew this man, the fact remained that Tahomaru didn’t. If he was something else, something that looked like a man but wasn’t… “Discussing it in here is fine.”

The priest cocked his head, a quizzical expression playing on his lips, almost as if he was seeing right through him. As far as he knew, he may have been. Tahomaru resisted the urge to shiver as the man nodded. “Smart lad, remaining in the temple.”

“Huh?” Tahomaru forced his body rigid to stop the flinch.

“Your brother tends to take shelter in places like this, does he not?”

“These places tend to be unoccupied. They’re convenient to take shelter in,” he answered. These were the safest kind of responses, if he didn’t know someone or didn’t know who to trust. Considering what had happened with Saburota, it was easily the safest bet to make.

The old man’s lip tilted up only slightly. “But you’ve suspected another reason.” He shifted, adjusting his position to relieve pressure on his joints. “And that would be right.”

Tahomaru glanced around the place, not entirely certain of what he was looking for, what Hyakkimaru or this priest would have seen in his place. Unless…If this man meant what he thought he meant, then was it okay for them to be there? Did he need to wake his brothers up and go somewhere else or…

“You worry too much,” the man spoke again. “You’d think you were an old man like me, eh?”

If he ever reached that age, he figured he’d have enough answers that he wouldn’t have to worry about anything. That was how these monk types tended to be, wasn’t it?

Behind him, Hyakkimaru stirred, a groan slipping out even as he tried to muffle it, and Tahomaru ran a hand over his shoulder. Though he stopped moving, it didn’t feel like any of the tension had left him. Had he made a mistake?

“Sorry,” he answered before turning back. “There’s just a lot that’s happened lately.” He took a breath. “If you’re here, then are you taking shelter from the demons, too?”

“Heh…There are other evils in the world besides demons. Let’s say my reasoning has something to do with that.”

He wasn’t referring to Hyakkimaru. He had to remind himself of that. If he’d wanted to kill him, if he’d seen what happened and decided it was too dangerous to let him go on, he could easily have done it while they were all still asleep. The way things had happened, he wasn’t sure if either of them would have been able to wake up and stop him. Dororo said he knew him, though, and he would have liked to think that meant he wasn’t the type who would kill a teenager “as a precaution.”

Still, he could think of a few other evils he might have meant. A mix of pity and disgust welled inside of him at the memory, a nagging feeling of _how could he have been so stupid_. Hyakkimaru had been acting strangely ever since he’d met him. He’d known something was wrong, even if he hadn’t said what, or hadn’t known what to call it.

“Ah,” he continued when Tahomaru didn’t respond. “Forgive me. I sometimes forget it’s not so easy for young people to see. You’ve got all sorts of crossroads laying themselves out before you, and not the slightest idea of which you should take.”

From where he was sitting, it didn’t look like they had much of any options left. How could they be at a crossroads when they had no choices left at all?

“So you’re saying I’d understand if I was older?” Was he saying he’d come to understand his brother’s sacrifice? Why Saburota went and tried to feed them to the same demon that killed his mother even after helping them? He was tempted to argue that he _had_ understood, had seen why it was better to let Hyakkimaru be eaten so everyone else could survive, that it hadn't held up because the demons had still been eating other people even within the territory they were supposed to protect. Was he supposed to say that had been _good enough_? 

“I suppose you could see it that way.” His head tilted downwards just a bit. Then perhaps that wasn’t the answer after all. As much as he would have liked to have an answer within reach, he was almost relieved that this wasn’t the case. “But I'm sure you've seen plenty of how age can turn a man cynical instead."

 _He knew_. There was no way he would say something like that if he didn't know. Then, should he ask him what he thought they should do?

"Well, in any case,” he said, taking something from the pouch he slung over his shoulder. “You’ll likely as not end up needing this.”

With that, he placed something beside them. It was wrapped in cloth, but as his hand closed around it, his eyes widened.

“How did you…?” He’d been almost certain it was stuck under water and rubble. No matter what extra senses he had, he shouldn’t have been able to get it back.

But the man didn’t answer. Instead, he stood and took up his walking stick, feeling his way out of the temple.

"Wait, where are you...?" Hadn’t he just said there were other evils? Was that supposed to mean that whatever it was had passed?

"Hm?" he paused, a knowing tilt to his tone. "Oh, I'm sure I won't be far off. Your brother tends to find trouble, and that in turn..." He trailed off, giving a small chuckle as he walked away, the tapping of his stick fading as he passed.

Just what had that meant? Was he some kind of...? In any event, it probably wasn’t the best idea to stick around too long. It would be best to put as much distance between themselves and this place as possible. He turned to rouse his elder brother, but just before his hand touched him, he stopped. Maybe it would be better not to, not just yet, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In some ways, I think both Tahomaru and Dororo are the kind of people who need to process things verbally. For Dororo, a lot of it is just that that's how he processes things since he tends to be pretty talkative in general. For Tahomaru, in some ways, maybe he was a verbal processor before and trained himself out of it, but I think part of it is also that, with everything that happened, if he doesn't put it into words, his mind will exaggerate things and he'll start questioning things he already knows. For Hyakkimaru, doing that would usually require a bit of extra "translation work" to put his own thoughts into words, so it's usually better for him if he can use other methods to communicate what he's processing.
> 
> I do want to get Hyakkimaru's perspective as well on what happened after Saburota's death, probably sometime in the next few chapters. And of course, I can't leave Biwa out completely, even though I don't have the skill to write from his POV just yet.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	9. Can We Go Back?

With how soon after the priest’s departure Hyakkimaru began stirring awake, Tahomaru almost had to wonder if he had ever been asleep at all. His breathing had been even before, but maybe he’d only been trying to go back to sleep, and never actually managed it.

This time, he made no attempt to quiet him, watching as he rolled onto his back, feeling along his arms before slowly pushing himself up. Almost as if he had to think about every movement. Then, he turned towards Dororo, hand hovering over his back before he rested it on his shoulder instead, tiny sigh escaping him as he felt the rise and fall of his breathing.

That wasn’t right. He should have known everything was fine by the condition of his soul, shouldn’t he? That was how that worked. Wasn’t it?

“Brother,” he spoke, alarm spiking when Hyakkimaru startled. “I want us to head out as soon as Dororo’s up. Can you still walk?”

There was a moment as he sat, probably processing what Tahomaru had said. _Can you not anymore?_ he was tempted to ask. The priest hadn’t seemed to think his burns were serious. They were already fading and he’d been able to walk just fine the night before. Besides, he usually needed time to think about those things when he was tired. There wasn’t anything abnormal about doing that now.

He shook himself loose from his thoughts as Hyakkimaru nodded, then held out a hand—the right one, not the one that had splintered.

“Do you want me to check your left arm? Dororo and I fixed it for you last night,” he said, stopping himself from asking if he remembered. Oh. Wait. But wouldn’t he have held out the left one, then? Perhaps he hadn’t meant that at all.

Tahomaru stood and took his hand, reaching for his left arm as he pulled him to his feet, watching for a moment to see if he would stay balanced. “Oh, good. You seem like you can stand well enough,” he said, stooping down and slipping an arm under Dororo. It might be good for everyone if Hyakkimaru was feeling up to carrying him. “Hey, we’re getting ready to head out. Can you wake up?”

The muffled whining and hands shoving him away gave him much more relief than they really should have. “Go ‘way…” followed by a string of incomprehensible mumblings which probably contained an insult or two.

At least that much was back to normal. “Dororo, come on. We need to head out,” he said again, more firmly. “You can have Hyakkimaru carry you—” Wait, no. He turned to him. “Brother, are you okay to carry Dororo? Your arm—”

Hyakkimaru shook his head once, sharply.

“Your arm shouldn’t re-break if you do, but if you’re worried about it, you could put him on your right side—”

Another sharp shake of the head, then another, and another. He could see the tension building in his stance, hands curling in towards his chest, and yet he couldn’t make himself stop speaking.

“Or if you’re really concerned you could carry him on your back—”

There was a sharp intake of breath as his elder brother took a step back, curling in on himself a fraction.

 _Why not?_ He wanted to ask, an impatient edge rising in his voice. But instead he found himself standing, reaching towards him, resting a hand against his cheek. “Brother, it won’t break.” But maybe he just wasn’t feeling too well. If he was having to think through something as simple as standing up, maybe balancing the kid would be too much. “All right,” he said instead. “Would you mind if I carried him?”

“You’re…gonna drop me…I c’n walk…” Dororo protested, but as he pushed himself to his feet, he held out his arms and let Tahomaru lift him onto his hip just the same.

It was strange. It felt wrong. This was really something _Hyakkimaru_ should have been doing, but couldn’t just then.

“All right,” he continued, sounding much calmer than he felt. “Then before we head out, I want us to have an idea of where we’re going.” The clearer that was, the less they would remind themselves of what had happened with Saburota, how he’d led them seemingly aimlessly up until he’d started towards the demon’s feeding ground. And he had an idea of just where they should go, too. “I think we should circle around and move back towards Daigo, but not quite into the territory. We should find Jukai, let him take a look at your arm and get you fixed up…”

“ _No._ ” It was one single word, spoken so softly he almost didn’t hear it. No? Why was that a no? Perhaps he’d misheard.

“Your mother?” he tried again. It was a little strange, of course, to call his brother’s father his mother, but if he wasn’t understanding when he called him by name, then maybe it would be better to call him the name he used for him. “Wouldn’t you like to see your mother again? He could fix your arm up and help you with…”

“ _No._ ” This time, he was almost certain he hadn’t imagined it.

He felt his eyebrows lifting in concern. “Doesn’t it normally make you feel better to be with…”

“ _No,_ ” Hyakkimaru said again, shaking his head sharply. “ _No, no, no, no…_ ” His hands came up to grip at his hair as he said it again and again, breathing growing sharper.

“Okay…okay…” He sat Dororo back down with a quick apology, almost moving to grab Hyakkimaru’s forearms and take them away from his head before remembering. No, that should have been obvious. He _knew_ better than to do that. Instead, he put his hands on his back, squeezing, silently praying he wouldn’t pull away. “All right, it’s okay, we won’t go back to Jukai’s then.” As much as he clearly, desperately needed to. “We’ll find someone who can repair your sword instead.”

“Huh?” Dororo suddenly snapped to attention. “But…we lost the other half of that, and I don’t think any of us can afford to buy a whole new one, and besides that…”

Tahomaru started to explain, but then realized he didn’t know his name. How strange. Why hadn’t he thought to ask for it? “The…that is…your priest friend found and brought it to us. He said we’d need it later.”

The child’s mouth hung open, working like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t figure out what. Heh. That was a first. Hyakkimaru’s eyes widened and he gave the slightest gasp.

“Brother,” he continued. “Since you aren’t carrying Dororo, do you want to hold your blade? It’s wrapped up so you won’t hurt yourself if you decide to put it in your belt, or you can carry it in your hands if…” He stopped himself. He was rambling again.

After a moment, he held out his hand for it, and Tahomaru placed the wrapped fragment into his hand, pushing his fingers to wrap around it before he could think better of it. It took him a few tries, but he slipped it into his belt, settling it against his hip.

“Do you mind if I keep ahold of your other sword for a bit? So that I can help defend us in case…”

This time, Hyakkimaru only shrugged. Which Tahomaru decided to take as a no, he didn’t want him to keep it, not really, but he understood why he needed it.

“All right,” he said, lifting Dororo back onto his hip. “Then let’s get out of here.”

* * *

His world wasn’t an empty one. Certainly, there were things he couldn’t see, which he knew now that people normally _could_ see. Rocks, dirt, little metal coins that people called “money” and tended to trade for other, more useful things. Water. He couldn’t see those, but he could understand they were there. Even before he had his full sense of touch, there were changes in the pressure of things, in the way it felt to move through it. There were tiny creatures, which sometimes people saw and sometimes they didn’t, and _they_ moved through them in ways that let him know more was there.

There was more feeling now, because his feet would scrape against the dirt and rocks, and wherever he had skin, he could feel the textures of things, some much nicer than others. What was more, his body _hurt_ , not all the time, but sometimes. Even feelings had physical hurt that went with them at times. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to that.

And maybe that was why Saburota had said he wasn’t human. Because humans got used to those things, and he didn’t. Because he’d seen something while he was merged with the demon, and Hyakkimaru just didn’t know what.

How was he supposed to ask either of his brothers about something like that? When they couldn’t see souls and the mere thought of repeating what he’d said made him want to run and hide somewhere that they wouldn’t be able to find him.

What was worse, he was supposed to be worrying about _Dororo_ right now. Because his youngest brother had breathed in water, and they almost hadn’t gotten him out.

But Tahomaru had said that Dororo’s “priest friend” had been there. That other soul? Was a priest what he was called? He hadn’t been awake, not really, but if he thought about it, when he was between awake and asleep, there had been a grating, gravelly voice. That soul usually stuck around when things were bad.

So if he had gone, did that mean things were supposed to be okay? But then, he’d been wrong before. With Mio and the kids. But then that was his fault, wasn’t it? Because he’d been acting like a demon.

No, he reminded himself, his brothers had said he _wasn’t_ a demon. Tahomaru had sat with him and made him repeat it again and again. His mom had said it, too. “You’re not a demon, you’re my son. Do you understand that?”

Would he say that still, if he’d seen what he did yesterday?

 _Not a demon, I’m your son_ , he imagined himself whispering.

“That’s right.”

“Brother?” His head jerked up. Tahomaru had stopped and turned around.

Oh. Had he said it out loud?

“Are you all right? It isn’t hurting you to walk?”

Not any more than it normally did. At least, he didn’t think it was. He shook his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want to carry Dororo?”

His youngest brother didn’t say anything, but he could feel his eyes on him, a sort of tired hope, fear, and exhaustion drifting around his shape.

They said his arm wouldn’t splinter. Somehow, he couldn’t quite believe it.

“If you change your mind, will you let me know?”

He wasn’t sure just how long they had walked after that. Long enough that they’d run into someone, and Tahomaru had stood in front of Hyakkimaru as they spoke. He didn’t quite catch what they said, but it had seemed to lift Tahomaru’s mood quite a bit. But that was awhile ago now, wasn’t it?

Then it had been long enough for Dororo to get bored with being carried and demand to be put down so he could walk. Long enough that he had come over to him, hesitating a moment before wrapping his little fingers around Hyakkimaru’s wooden ones, squeezing tight enough he could almost hear the wood creaking. Not loud enough to break, but enough that he felt himself struggling not to tense up.

“Eh? Bro, you okay?” Even without looking down, he could imagine Dororo peering up at him, worried flicker dancing along the inside of his aura.

Nod. He needed to nod. Dororo was the one who almost died.

Instead, he squeezed back, silently hoping his right fingers wouldn’t give out, too.

“I think there’s a town up ahead,” Tahomaru’s voice drifted back, and soon enough, the rest of him followed. “The path is better here. It’s probably used and upkept more often.”

Was it a little firmer than before? He should have been able to figure that out. It wasn’t that difficult and he wasn’t that sore.

“It’s about time,” Dororo huffed, sounding like he put far more effort into it than he should have. “Just around the bend. Yeah, right. More like over a mountain!”

Tahomaru sighed. “It wasn’t that bad, and even if it was, I carried you for most of it.”

“Yeah, and even I can see you’re walking like an old man now! Isn’t that right, bro?”

Some other time, he might have played along with him to hear his younger brother’s indignant sputtering and mock cries of betrayal. Or he might have just given a shrug to hear Dororo doing the same. Maybe he should still do one of those things. It would be nice to feel just a little more normal after…

But before he could, a distant nickering sound caught his attention and he found himself walking towards it. He’d heard that sound before, and he could guess what it probably belonged to—what he hoped it belonged to.

“Eh? Bro, what…?”

He couldn’t quite manage to break into a run, but he rounded the bend and the shape came into view. Yes, he’d seen one of these before! He’d even climbed on top of one once, though he was surprised the rest of that memory hadn’t ruined the animal for him.

There it was, big and sturdy and so very calm. He found himself wanting to touch it, to feel the short fur over its neck, if it would let him. If he was really a demon, it probably wouldn’t, but if he wasn’t…

Running one hand over its mane so the creature would understand he didn’t mean to hurt it, he pressed his forehead into the side of its neck, slowly rubbing back and forth. Yes, it was wonderful, not quite soft, but not quite coarse either, and it was warm. Soft vibrations rumbled through his hands and forehead, and he could practically feel the tension draining out of him at the same time as the creature.

Even with the slight sting from the wound on his forehead, it felt so good. Maybe things didn’t have to keep going badly after all. If he could just hold onto this, then he wouldn’t keep worrying his brothers instead of protecting them. Almost absently, he recalled Tahomaru rubbing his fingers against his sleeve. Maybe this would drain the stress out of him, too.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he turned his head, pressing his cheek against it as his hands continued to stroke along its mane. “Dororo, a horse.”

A tiny sigh escaped him, though he thought it sounded more relieved than annoyed. “Yeah, we probably should have gotten one if we knew we were going to travel this far…”

“And where exactly would we have had time to do that?” Tahomaru’s retort carried none of its usual bite, not even a teasing one. But at least there was less of a nervous edge to it than before.

He kept waiting for them to say that was enough and they needed to head into town if he wanted his sword fixed. But the statement never came. Maybe they understood why he needed to do this right now. Even the horse let him keep stroking it, even if it didn’t understand what he was doing. If they could just let him keep this up for a moment longer, then maybe things would be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. I switched the order of some events. 
> 
> One thing I really wanted to include from episode 19 was that whole bit of Hyakkimaru rubbing foreheads with a horse, in part because I've put the boys through the wringer enough with this fic that I wanted to let them have at least one genuinely happy moment, but I also really wanted to get to see it through Hyakkimaru's eyes, since in the episode, we kind of see it through Dororo's eyes as "Dororo thinks he's picked up a weird habit." Granted, some of the context is a little different here, but there's still some of the same idea of "I'm tired, we've been walking for awhile, people keep trying to kill me, I am going to pet this horse because it feels good."
> 
> Regarding the first half of this chapter, while I do somewhat regret that I continue to put them through this, how they deal with it was very much a topic I wanted to explore. Particularly since the plot got in the way during the show. The idea of being caught between "I want things to go back to before" and "I can't go back to before." 
> 
> That's all I'll say on it for now, but in any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	10. New Varieties of Miscommunication

Hyakkimaru wasn’t sure just how long they stayed there, only that no one stopped him. He didn’t really want to let go of the horse, but he knew that they were supposed to be looking for someone to repair his swords. Besides, Dororo and Tahomaru wouldn’t want to stand around all day.

Taking a breath, he nuzzled against it once more before releasing it and standing straight. Somehow, only a little bit of the dread he was expecting seeped back in, even though as far as he could tell, it was a normal horse. Maybe it was just something about horses, then.

“You ready, bro?” As Dororo spoke, Hyakkimaru could see a little flicker of worry fading from both of them, though it never fully disappeared.

He couldn’t quite manage a nod in response. Not when what he really wanted to do was ask if they wanted to pet the horse, too. They might not. He’d seen Tahomaru on top of one before, but that had been at the wall, just before they had fought. It hadn’t ruined them for _him_ , but that didn’t mean it would be the same for both of them. And Dororo…had Dororo ever been around one before? Suddenly, he couldn’t remember.

Then, there was a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, brother. I can talk to the blacksmith for you if you like.”

There wasn’t really a question of “if you like.” Not when the best he could have done would have been to show the blades and say, “I need this.” If he could focus properly, he might be able to add “fixed” to the end of it. But for Tahomaru, that “if you like” had always been important. Sort of like a way to let him pull away if he needed to.

Right. He needed to nod, or take a step and start walking.

“Is there something else worrying you?”

When he didn’t answer, the hand on his shoulder moved over his back once, then returned to its original position and gave a squeeze.

“If things go wrong, we can leave. We’ll keep walking until we find someone who will be willing to fix them for you.”

“Or I can beat ‘em up for ya,” Dororo added, holding up his arms in what was probably supposed to be a fighting stance.

Tahomaru gave the slightest huff in reply, though it was hiding a laugh. “Or we could negotiate, yes.”

Those two things meant something very different, didn’t they? But, if the two of them could joke together again, then maybe…

He took a step forward, and Dororo pumped a fist into the air. “All right! Let’s go!” Then he paused, his raised fist slackening. “Oh, actually, where did that guy say the blacksmith guy was again?”

* * *

It had taken them only a few minutes to find someone outside their house—Tahomaru had been a bit uncomfortable with knocking—and they learned that the blacksmith’s name was Munetsuna, which Dororo had a hard time repeating and Tahomaru insisted the peddler (which must have been what the person they’d met was called?) had told him that before.

“But you’re not going to ask him to forge a sword, are you?” this person spoke up.

“I suppose it is a bit forward of us, showing up out of nowhere and asking him to fix our weapons, but…” Tahomaru’s contrite tone didn’t match the flow of his aura just then. Oh. Right. That was what “negotiating” looked like. He’d done that before.

The new soul waved a hand. “I mean, that’s whatever, but Munetsuna?”

This time, it was Dororo who ventured. “But…isn’t he supposed to be a skilled craftsman? Like a master or something?”

“Tch, he’s nothing of the sort. He forged that hatchet for me, but I’m not impressed with it at all.” That wasn’t entirely true. There was something in his aura that said otherwise. “And his daughter, Okowa, is really ugly and has a bad personality.”

Just what did that have to do with anything? Hyakkimaru hadn’t been able to help the little jolt he gave at that. By the feeling of Tahomaru’s hands on his sleeve, just a second before he let go, he hadn’t known to expect it either. So then that probably _was_ actually a strange thing to have said.

Why would you say something like that to people you didn’t know?

There was a clunk of two pieces of wood falling. “Holy shit!”

“Dororo—” Tahomaru started, then shook his head. “I understand you may not be impressed with this Munetsuna, but at the moment, he’s the only option we have. So, if you would tell us where we could find him…”

“Outskirts of town. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As they’d walked on, Dororo had muttered to himself about what was that guy’s problem, making up stuff about the blacksmith like he was really someone high enough to be whining about the hatchet, and maybe he’d just go back and take it if that’s what he thought of it. To his surprise, Tahomaru didn’t chide him for it, only put a hand to his mouth and murmured, “Maybe he charges a lot for them?”

“Ah, crap. How much money do we have left?” Dororo groaned. “Maybe he’ll give us a discount. You know, since we’ve got all the pieces?”

“I’d almost think he was making things up because Munetsuna didn’t want to do it, if he hadn’t mentioned…” There was a pause. “Brother, you thought it was strange, too. Didn’t you?”

He could manage a nod at that.

“Hm. I didn’t understand it myself. I’m glad…”

“Hehe…maybe he thinks you’re his rivals, and he’s in love with the blacksmith’s daughter…” Dororo made a gagging noise even as his soul peaked with teasing edges.

“If it makes you sick, you shouldn’t joke about it!” Tahomaru huffed. “Brother, how do you put up with him?”

He could just shrug at that. Within seconds, Dororo had declared that if they didn’t need to get to the blacksmith’s, he’d climb up him and wrestle him to the ground right then and there. Both of them!

When they reached the house, they had taken a moment, a silent, “It will be all right.” And then Dororo had stepped forward and knocked.

“ _Whaat?_ ” a higher voice had called from inside. There was a crash of one thing knocking into another. “Are you here to come whining about my papa again?”

There was a harsh grinding of the screen being yanked to one side. And then the soul behind it jumped. “Oh.” A hint of embarrassment flickered through their aura. “Who are you?”

Within a second, Dororo had stepped between them. “Hi! Is this Mu-ne-tsuna’s place?”

A slight exhale escaped Tahomaru just then, but it seemed like it was small enough this person wouldn’t notice. Hyakkimaru wouldn’t have said it out loud, but it relieved him more than he cared to admit that someone else did the same things he sometimes did. 

“Yeah…he’s my papa.”

“Oh! So you must be Okowa!” Dororo chirped.

“Depends on who’s asking.” Her voice took on a stubborn edge.

“If it’s someone who’s traveling and heard that your papa forged great swords?”

“Oh! A customer!” Okowa’s aura brightened considerably. “Yeah, my papa’s the _best_ swordmaker in the land!”

“See, that’s what I heard on the way here. But the villagers…”

“Sheesh,” Okowa huffed. “People around here always lie like that. They say that the blades he makes aren’t any good, but they still come whining to Papa for help.”

“So he _is_ as good as that!”

“You bet!” Okowa gave a sharp nod.

The next second, Hyakkimaru felt the wrapped blades pulled from his waist. It was just Dororo, so he didn’t jump, but he almost felt the urge to clamp his hand over the cloth. Dororo would give it back when he was done. There was no reason to get defensive about it.

“So he could re-forge these for us?”

Curiosity, shock, and amazement radiated off of Okowa, so strong he was almost certain both his brothers could feel it, too. As she leaned in to examine them, that spike of anxiety returned. The swords weren’t him. They weren’t even attached to him right now. It wasn’t the same as if she’d been leaning over _him_ , but…

“Wow! These have really been through a lot, haven’t they! There’s so much chipping in _both_ of them, even the one that’s not broken. Must be pretty good to still be in one piece after taking enough punishment to look like _that_!”

She reached forward to examine them, pausing and reaching for the cloth instead of the blades, but she’d still started to reach for them. And this kind of thing usually led to…

“What have you been doing with—”

Hyakkimaru reached forward with both hands, cupping either side of her face and turning it away from the blades. Her aura flashed with fear and confusion, suddenly unsure of whether he was hostile or not. He couldn’t say that he knew why she’d think that and he didn’t mean to be, he just needed her to stop asking. Needed to distract her so she’d forget her question.

He pressed their foreheads together. If it had been him, it would have blocked up his entire view with the aura. The emotions in her aura flared. Oh. Right. He needed to explain.

“Okowa.” The name pushed out scratchy against his throat. That wouldn’t be good enough, but he didn’t know if he could manage any more. Even a _stop_ would have been better, but…

“Wh-what are you—?” And suddenly, she had shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back into Tahomaru.

“Brother, what…” Oh. Maybe that was doing the opposite of what he wanted to happen. At least before, they’d just been asking about the swords…

Okowa shook herself out, and then stood up. Something fluttered through her soul just then, but he wasn't sure if it was good or bad. “In any event, I’ll take you to see my papa. This way.”

* * *

Just what had his big bro been thinking? It was one thing when it was him and Tahomaru, but he didn’t even know this person, and that wasn’t like him. But then he’d also been all over the horse earlier, too. And that was maybe a bit less weird because it was huge and all covered with fur, and it wasn’t like he’d never gotten clingy around stuff like that before.

But at the same time…Dororo was worried. Maybe he’d been a bit rattled by everything, but he _did_ still notice things. With his big bro, and with that Okowa girl as well. As she led them to her father’s forge, he _really_ hoped he was reading too much into things. After all, just because she was a girl about his bro’s age and people in town didn’t seem to like her very much didn’t mean…

As they reached the door, she signaled them to stop. “Papa might get mad if we disturb him, so I’ll have you wait here. Oh!” She perked up, clasping her hands together. “You should have your swords out. After all, first impressions are incredibly important.”

Great. She had to go and say something like _that_. Sparing a glance to make sure Tahomaru hadn’t instantly turned into a basket case from that remark, Dororo peered into the room. He may not have known a lot about sword-smithing, but it seemed pretty standard. Furnace, tools, places to set things…masks.

“Hey, bro, check out this weird-lookin’ mask,” he grinned. Hyakkimaru wouldn’t be able to see it, of course, but he could still feel along it and he’d still get a kick out of Dororo’s descriptions.

Almost immediately, Tahomaru tensed up. “I don’t think that’s what she meant by waiting here…”

“Ah, it’s not a big deal.” At least, Dororo hoped it wasn’t. “Here bro, you take this one.”

Even though Hyakkimaru did as he asked, he could see his brow pinching. Ah. Right. He’d never worn one since he’d gotten his skin back, and Dororo couldn’t remember if he’d ever explained to him what they were for when you actually _had_ skin.

“Hey! What are you doing!” He could have sworn Tahomaru jumped six inches from Okowa’s shriek. Really, it wasn’t _that_ big of a deal. But then her voice took on a placating edge. “Don’t be mad, Papa. After all, they’re not from here and first impressions…”

Yeesh, was that some kind of life mantra thing? He was tempted to tell them that first impressions weren’t everything, you know. After all, his brothers here had introduced themselves by trying to kill each other, and look at them now. But then again, that wasn’t something you could just go around telling people you’d just met.

Once he’d lifted the mask from his face, he could see Munetsuna had turned to look at them. He didn’t look mad. More like he’d stared at swords for too long and his face got stuck that way. Though if he was Okowa’s papa, then probably she knew better what angry looked like on him.

“Those swords…” he mused, his tone unreadable. “Just what have you been killing with them?”

Hyakkimaru’s fingers creaked loud enough that he was surprised everyone didn’t hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you're about due for a Dororo POV section, but certain scenes just really need to be from Hyakkimaru's perspective for his actions to make sense, particularly since the reasoning for some of them is different from the episode. I had this ready yesterday, but I think on some level I was stalling because I didn't want to publish on April 1. Though I think it ended up date-stamping April 1 because of when I started the upload.
> 
> If the filler chapter with Saburota was high school part 2, then this town definitely fits that bill. Heh...
> 
> I'm also kind of excited to get to write Okowa, since she only had the one appearance in episode 19. I don't know if she'll end up with a POV section yet. There's no real narrative or character reason why she can't have one, but at the same time, I hadn't originally planned for Sabame's first POV section, so who knows.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	11. Counterproposal

As they headed up the hill to the local temple, Dororo was still trying to digest everything Munetsuna had said. Something about needing to purify the swords before he could work on them? And Hyakkimaru had hastily re-wrapped the blades, clutching them in both hands. It wasn’t exactly hard to guess what he’d start mumbling under his breath when he thought they weren’t looking at him.

Tahomaru had put a hand on Hyakkimaru to slow him, shielding his mouth with his free hand as he whispered, “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s only that you’ve killed several powerful demons, and they can leave a mark. A good blacksmith would try to remove that mark before he’d re-forge them.”

How much of that was true? Dororo didn’t know that much about forging swords, and sure, it made sense. But he could hear Okowa whispering up ahead and see her glancing back at them. Something knotted in the pit of his stomach. Was it not such a normal thing to do after all?

His hands had gripped and ungripped over the wrapped swords, until Hyakkimaru had turned a finger to point towards himself.

“That’s different. You’re not a weapon. You can heal.”

The image of Hyakkimaru being melted down and remade sent a shudder through him. Even if they _could_ do something like that, would he still have been his same brother afterwards? Dororo wrapped around his middle and squeezed, burying his head against his side.

That wouldn’t happen. It _couldn’t_. He had to calm down. There was no way he was going to do this in front of Okowa and her father. Hyakkimaru was right there. Tahomaru was there. He was still there. They were alive, they were fine or else they would be. People couldn’t be melted down and remade. That was that.

Besides, he told himself as Hyakkimaru’s hand came to rest on his head, if he let himself get all caught up in everything he’d lose out on his first opportunity in awhile to do some thieving. And it was going to take a lot more than a visit to a temple before he’d forget about that hatchet.

When they reached the temple, the sky had just started to take on an orange hue, and for a moment, Dororo felt rooted to the spot. What the hell? He had both his brothers with him. They were going to a temple, not finishing a fight.

Touching the mask he’d swiped earlier, he stepped forward. As Munetsuna set up the small stand he’d brought and began praying, Okowa turned to them.

“Bishamon is the guardian god of this temple, so everyone in this village prays to it,” she said.

This was one of those moments where he was supposed to act interested, wasn’t it? Though it helped that he couldn’t remember if he’d heard of Bishamon before. “Hm?”

“Oh! And the Hyottoko on that mask is another one. A god of forging.”

Dororo could already imagine the shade of gray Tahomaru would be turning at his having plucked a god off the wall. Whoops. He took the mask from the side of his head. “It’s got kind of a funny face for a god.” Which was probably not what he should be saying, but it was out before he could stop it.

“That’s because it’s blowing on the embers, like so,” she answered, puffing out her cheeks to demonstrate. “It’s been in our family for generations and keeps away misfortune, so we’re really grateful to it!”

Dororo was pretty sure no one really blew on embers like that. Not that he was about to start a fight over it. Yet.

Behind him, Hyakkimaru gave a startled jolt. “Huh? What’s wrong, bro?”

“Did a bug bite you?” Okowa supplied. “They can be a real pain sometimes, but—”

“Hey.” Munetsuna never raised his voice, yet it silenced them all with a single word. “Put the swords there.”

“Okay.” Dororo took ahold of Hyakkimaru’s sleeve. He wasn’t sure if he could see the stand or not, so he figured he’d help indicate where the spots were. But as he was turning to explain, he suddenly found himself being lifted up and sat between the borders. “Hey, what the he—” He cut himself off, remembering Munetsuna and Okowa. “What are you doing?”

Was this supposed to be a kind of joke? But his sense of humor…it didn’t fully make sense to Dororo, but from what he _did_ know, it didn’t tend to come out around people his bro _didn’t_ know. Just what the hell was he thinking?

“What are you…I…?” Hyakkimaru mumbled in response, staring at his hands.

“It’s not a big deal, I guess. Just don’t joke around at temples, okay?” Dororo sighed, hopping down and picking up the blades. He started to hold them out, but Hyakkimaru’s fingers were still curled in. So he set the blades up himself instead.

When he stepped back, Okowa and her father began chanting prayers, which Dororo tried to follow and Tahomaru at least bowed his head for, moving next to Hyakkimaru and clasping his hands together with a firm clap, so he could see what he was supposed to do. But somewhere in there, Okowa’s chanting had paused, then restarted suddenly.

He really hoped this Bishamon guy would protect against nosy people, too.

* * *

His brothers had been oddly quiet since they returned from the temple. Really, everyone had, but what was strangest was that Dororo hadn’t piped up the second they’d started down the hill. Though he supposed what had happened leading up to it was enough to put anyone in a contemplative mood.

The three of them had opted to stay at the inn, determining that their funds would be able to cover both that and the cost of repairing the swords. If all else failed, they could do some extra work to balance things out.

And of course, no sooner had they settled in than Dororo threw himself to the ground and declared himself “Beat, bushed, exhausted, and otherwise pooped” even though he had plenty of energy to keep rambling about it afterwards. At least some things were back to normal. Maybe he’d just finally learned to tread quietly around people he needed something from.

“And that Munetsuna guy said he’d bring the swords here,” he continued. Tahomaru felt his lip curl as he resisted the urge to tease him about how he’d finally gotten it that time.

“The swords…will come here?” His elder brother’s voice came softly, but it was the most he had spoken today. And a full sentence at that.

“Yup!” Dororo chirped. “It’s not even going to cost us that much, so we can just take it easy for now.”

As if _that_ wasn’t far too good to be true. But was it really worth it for him to point it out when they all needed the rest?

“The swords will come here,” Hyakkimaru repeated.

Tahomaru nodded. “That’s right.”

There was a pause, and then he spoke again. “Don’t need them.”

What? That wasn’t like him.

It seemed Dororo had the same idea. He rolled over and studied Hyakkimaru’s face carefully. “That’s weird. I’m either really tired or I’m losing it, because I thought I heard you say you didn’t need them.”

“Do-n’t need…” He hadn’t even finished the sentence, stilted as it was, before his hand clamped over his mouth.

And that set off all kinds of alarm bells. Dororo sprang to his feet faster than he could. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?! You need those swords to get your body back from the demons, remember? And on top of that—”

“Mister Hyaku? Tahomaru, Dororo? It’s me, Okowa.” Naturally, she had chosen the perfect timing.

Tahomaru almost expected Dororo to yell out that they were naked, which was probably just the kid’s own bad influence creeping up on him. “Come in?” he answered instead. “And what the hell is a Mister Hyaku?” he murmured almost as an afterthought.

Thankfully, Okowa either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it. As she entered, she resumed speaking. “I thought you might be hungry, so I made this.”

She set the package on the ground, beginning to unwrap it before glancing up and seeing Hyakkimaru’s hands over his mouth. “Oh. Are you sick? Perhaps I should have made soup instead…”

“My brother is fine,” Tahomaru answered for him, already beginning to wonder if that was a lie.

Dororo scrambled over, mercifully intervening. “Thanks! I was getting hungry,” he said, reaching for the food. “Wow! That looks good!”

“Ah!” Okowa snipped, slapping his hand away. “That’s not how it works, Dororo. The master of the house gets to eat first.”

“The master of…?” Oh, Tahomaru could already see where this was going, even as he watched the pieces slot together in Dororo’s head.

“And who’s that supposed to be?” Dororo snapped.

There was no missing the look in Okowa’s countenance as she gazed across the food towards Hyakkimaru. Even in _his_ sheltered experience, he’d seen that look before. According to Hyogo, he’d even _made_ that look once or twice, even if he couldn’t remember it. And with Okowa making it at his brother now…Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no…

As he struggled not to choke on his own air, Dororo stepped in. “Hey! Bro and I and Taho…the three of us are on a really important journey right now! We’re not sticking around once the swords are done!”

“I’ve thought about that, and I’m prepared to go with you.” She closed her eyes, solemnly pressing her hands to her chest.

“Are you stupid?!” Dororo sputtered. He might have tried to sound angry, but anyone could have heard the tension just below the surface. So much for his handling this well. “This isn’t something just anyone can do!”

“Don’t worry,” she answered, nodding firmly. “I’m the blacksmith’s daughter, the eldest child of the strongest swordmaker in the land. I can handle it.”

“It isn’t just about physical strength…” Tahomaru’s heart thudded in his throat. It wasn't even just about being useful. What were they supposed to tell her without spilling everything that had gone on from the very beginning? More importantly, how could they even begin to explain what had happened recently without completely throwing at least one of them to the wolves?

Without that, Okowa would have an answer to everything. Really, how were they supposed to tell her that Hyakkimaru _needed_ to do things that looked strange to other people, that sometimes he got overwhelmed to a point that he couldn’t even move, that he himself would lose where he was at times and panic over pains he wasn’t having and things that weren’t happening, that Dororo still cried himself to sleep some nights when he thought they couldn’t see him? Traveling with Saburota even for a few _days_ had been grueling because of hiding that—and she thought she could go with them _forever?_

How were they supposed to tell her _any_ of that when they barely knew her?

“Ah! Fine! You tell her, bro!” It was a blatant last resort. But at least he wouldn’t say too much. “Tell Okowa she can’t go with you!”

“Okowa can go with me.” The color drained from Dororo’s face as he spoke, siphoning into Okowa’s by the look of it.

Dororo sighed, giving a small smile. Hopefully he realized his mistake in feeding him an entire line. In situations like this, it was better to let him give his own short answers. Even Tahomaru understood that much.

“Hah, good one, bro. But you shouldn’t joke about stuff like that.”

A flash of annoyance flitted across his face before it settled into a careful neutral. “Not joking.”

“But how’re you gonna bring her on the rest of your journey?”

“Won’t go.”

“But you can’t get your body back if you don’t—”

“Don’t want it.”

Dororo and Tahomaru exchanged a look. Something was very wrong if it hadn’t been already. Was he trying to agree with what he thought Okowa wanted? Thinking something would happen if he didn’t? Expecting it would just be more of the last few days if he _did_ go back out?

“Hey, bro.” Dororo adopted a sterner tone. “You gotta stop joking about this. I’m serious.”

“ _Not. Joking._ ” And all Tahomaru could think was that they needed Okowa to leave, _right now_ , so they could get to the bottom of this before everyone boiled over.

“Hey…what about his body?” He felt his good eye twitch and reminded himself she was probably just trying to diffuse the situation.

“What about me, then?” Dororo continued. He could see the look in his eyes. He _knew_ he needed to shut up while he was anything resembling ahead, but he was already starting to panic and his mouth had gotten ahead of him.

“Don’t…have to stay together.” His right hand was waving almost wildly in front of him.

In the split second before Dororo swallowed it down, there had been _hurt_ clear in his entire expression, his body as well as his face.

Okowa had seen it, as well. “It’s really not a big deal, Mister Hyaku. Dororo can stay with us…”

“You say that again…” Dororo growled.

“Don’t need…Dororo with…” His left hand had come up over his own throat, like he could stop the sound if he gripped it hard enough, and Tahomaru moved to take it off before he hurt himself.

This time, Dororo hadn’t been able to stop his voice from cracking. “ _Fine!_ Do whatever you want!” he screamed, snatching up the Hyottoko mask and throwing it. “I hate you!”

Tahomaru slapped it down before it made contact with his elder brother’s head, only vaguely registering that he’d probably cursed himself by slapping a god, but his stricken expression was there all the same. His hands dropped on either side of him as Dororo ran off a stream of swears and insults.

“All right, fine then! I’m glad for you and Okowa getting together! I hope you stupid lovebirds go and—”

“Dororo!” Tahomaru cut him off. It wasn’t like they’d never disagreed before, but mediating a full-blown fight between them was _far_ beyond his expertise.

“Aww! Dororo, I didn’t know you felt that way!” Okowa beamed. “Thank you so much, I’m so glad you agree…”

“Sure, whatever, keep talking! I really mean it!” Dororo spat back, snatching up the food and stuffing all of it into his mouth, screaming through tears and then darting from the room before anyone could stop him.

Hyakkimaru stared after him, like he didn’t know if he _could_ follow even if he tried. “…Dororo looked happy,” he said, not sounding the slightest bit happy at all.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently Stressed Taho has two modes: Overly Sarcastic, and Overly Polite. There is very little in between, and he is constantly aware that he's probably doing the wrong thing.
> 
> I had admittedly intended for Dororo's POV to take up the entire chapter, but the final scene was sounding a lot like Tahomaru's "voice" to me, so that's what it ended up as. I'd also debated for awhile whether I wanted that scene from Okowa's perspective or not, since it would have been a convenient place to stick a POV section for her, but because of the nature of this scene, I felt like I needed someone who is not Hyakkimaru, but who understands how he is normally, and because of the context, Okowa really only knows what he's like when he's teetering on the edge of burnout. Whoops.
> 
> I still very much want to put a POV section for her in somewhere. If I don't manage it in this fic, then probably she'll get her own perspective version of this fic. No promises yet, of course, but that's probably what I'll do if she doesn't get a POV here.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	12. This Doesn't Make Sense

It didn’t make sense. Why, after all the time they’d spent together, did his big bro turn around and decide they were better off splitting up? Just because he was still a kid? Did he think he didn’t get how things worked? He should know better than that!

Dororo ran and ran, not caring where he ended up, until his foot slipped and he felt water. Immediately, he scrambled back. Dammit. He couldn’t even run away in peace.

Shaking his foot off, he backpedaled into the grass and sat down. Just because he’d almost…that didn’t mean his bro had to go and just call off everything. It wasn’t like he’d never gotten in trouble before! And they’d been _fine_ in the end, right?

“Dumbass,” he mumbled, kicking the ground beneath him. Stupid bro. If he really wanted to get married and start a family so bad, why didn’t he think Dororo would want to be part of that?

The crickets chirped louder and Dororo was suddenly very aware that he was out alone in the middle of the night. Really not a good idea when he didn’t know what might be lurking about. The last thing he wanted was to get eaten by some stupid ghoul just because he happened to be sitting around.

But he didn’t really want to go back, either. Going back meant having to remember the fight they’d just had. If it was Tahomaru, he would have expected it. It was practically a game between them at this point. But Tahomaru had mostly been silent, and it was Hyakkimaru he’d fought with.

Besides that, he’d probably have to apologize, and it wasn’t like _he_ did anything wrong. If Hyakkimaru was thinking about quitting everything, he should have said something earlier.

Except…a nagging feeling curled in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he had. Maybe when he wouldn’t go home to Jukai earlier, he’d already been thinking about it, and just couldn’t say it then.

Dororo stood, shaking himself violently and letting out a screech. _That_ was not something he wanted to think about right now! He might have been Hyakkimaru’s little brother, and probably Tahomaru’s too at this point, but he was still the Great Thief Dororo! This town…well, maybe it wouldn’t do to snatch up everything when the blacksmith at least wasn’t so bad, (even if he wasn’t sure about his daughter anymore) but he could at least get some practice in with everyone else!

He’d head back towards the inn, see if anyone left anything lying around—like a hatchet, maybe. After all, if he wanted to keep his title, he couldn’t let himself get rusty.

* * *

They needed to do something. They needed to go after Dororo, right then. In fact, Okowa had _asked_ if they should follow him.

And what had Tahomaru answered with? “Oh, no. He’ll be back. He does this all the time.”

Which was not true in the slightest. While he _did_ run off when he got upset enough, it wasn’t like Hyakkimaru had ever taken more than a minute or two before he would follow after him. It really wasn’t even like he came back of his own accord. Sure, he wasn’t exactly kicking and screaming, but typically, his elder brother carried him back. They _absolutely_ needed to follow him.

Okowa’s head tilted, as if she didn’t quite believe it. Good. Tahomaru didn’t believe it, either. “Are you sure?”

No. “Yes, I’m sure.” Wonderful.

“Oh, well. I’ll keep a lookout for him, then, okay? Um…” She stood, shifting on her feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister Hyaku, Tahomaru. And if I see Dororo, I’ll bring him here!”

And then she was out all-too-quickly. That much, Tahomaru could be grateful for. But from that point, they would have to figure out what they should do about everything, which was probably going to be about as easy as everything else had been up until this point. Something was going wrong, Dororo was lashing out, Hyakkimaru had picked now to suddenly decide to act like _him_ , and so of course he himself had to go into some odd state where he wasn’t making trouble, even if it was the opposite of what he meant to say in that moment.

One of them should go after Dororo, before he went too far and got himself lost. With whatever had been going on with his elder brother, perhaps it would be better if Hyakkimaru waited in their room while he went looking for Dororo.

“If you’ll go and look for Dororo, I can wait here.” Or he could just completely screw up what he was going to say. Okay. Sure, why not. Everyone else was spouting nonsense, why not him, too?

“No,” he replied almost immediately, even though he was already on his feet and making his way to the door.

Tahomaru scrambled to his feet and followed after him. He’d wanted it to be the opposite, but more than anything, he needed to prevent his brother from going out alone. Although he may have been perfectly capable of defending himself under normal circumstances, with everything that had happened—and this whole new problem happening now—it wasn’t something he was willing to risk.

Just as long as he didn’t make a racket over it, it would be fine.

In the end, they hadn’t been able to find Dororo. Even though he wanted to keep looking, Hyakkimaru kept finding himself saying, “Go back,” and Tahomaru hadn’t answered him, even though he had taken them back to their room.

Dororo hadn’t been there. Which should have meant they went back out again and searched some more. But instead, Tahomaru had started unfolding the bedding for them to sleep on, then gestured him over. That didn’t make sense. They _needed_ to go back out to look for Dororo. Tahomaru had _told him_ to go out and look for Dororo.

Was it because they had a fight? He was assuming that Dororo didn’t want to be found? That made a little more sense. Sort of. But then, with what had happened with Saburota and the samurai camp and the demon, did that still matter?

No, but then, Dororo had started saying things that didn’t make sense, too. Didn’t it sound strange to Tahomaru as well? Why didn’t it seem strange to him anymore? Unless he was becoming strange, too.

Nothing was making any sense. Hyakkimaru needed to ask what was happening, why everything was wrong and everyone else was saying things wrong and even his own words were wrong, but he could already feel his throat locking up. Even if he could have said what he wanted, it wasn’t going to get to where anyone could hear it.

At least that much wasn’t new. He tried to point at the door, trying to force himself to say “ _Dororo,_ ” but unable to get more than a few sounds.

Tahomaru didn’t answer, but a wave of regret pulsed through his aura as he shook his head. And then he was being pulled down to the mat and the blankets tucked around him, a hand moving over his hair as though the spiking anxiety all around him wouldn’t overwhelm it.

He didn’t understand, Hyakkimaru thought with a pang, curling his knees near his chest. Everything was going wrong. This just didn’t make any sense at all.

* * *

When Okowa had come to get them the next morning, her heart fluttered both in anticipation and in concern. She had told as many people as possible about Hyakkimaru’s proposal, and of course they’d all said they were shocked and they couldn’t believe anyone would agree to marry her, which stung more than she cared to admit. Even if they hated her family, she would have thought they’d at least try to fake being polite about it.

It didn’t matter, she told herself. All that mattered was he had agreed to it, and her father hadn’t opposed their decision.

She hoped Dororo was having an easier time with their engagement. It really was sweet how he was trying to be happy for them, but all the same, she couldn’t imagine it was easy to marry off an older brother. Even if she’d never had one herself.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out through her nose, she entered the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I did write more for Okowa's POV section, the rest of it felt more like its own chapter and, if I had written the full scene, would have heavily weighted this chapter towards those events due to length, and I had wanted to focus on everyone's immediate reactions, but still allow for the setup to begin transitioning into that next part. Because of that, I opted to break it off here instead. She will be getting more in the next chapter, so this definitely isn't all she's going to get.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	13. Between a Lie and an Untruth

As Okowa entered, there were a few things she noticed right away. One was that Tahomaru was standing as if he’d been pacing around a bit, while Hyakkimaru was sitting and watching his hands. One was bandaged up, while the other looked normal even though both were clearly prosthetics. For a moment, she wondered just what he saw. She’d have to ask about that sometime. Or maybe he would just tell her. But more than that…

“Oh, did Dororo not come back?” It might not have been the best way to say it, and perhaps it shouldn’t have been the first thing out of her mouth, but in their place, if she’d had a sibling who was prone to running off, she wouldn’t have been able to sit still for even a moment before finding them.

“Dororo is back,” Hyakkimaru answered, still watching his hands.

“Oh! So he’s an early-riser!” Then everything was okay. She wasn’t sure just what he would be up to without his brothers this early in a town he didn’t know, but kids always had extra energy to burn off, didn’t they?

“Mm,” Tahomaru nodded. “Something like that.” 

Something wasn’t quite right with him, but for the life of her, Okowa wasn’t sure what. She really didn’t know either of them well enough to get anything more than a general sense that something was “off” from before.

“Well…” she swallowed. Maybe it wasn’t appropriate anymore, but she had already announced the engagement and set the date, so it was probably better to stick to what she’d said. It wasn’t like she needed the others criticizing her even more. Even if she might be leaving for awhile after that.

She shook her head, refocusing her thoughts. “If everything’s all right, then can we take a minute to set things up? I…might have told the rest of the village that we were going to be married, and since you’re already using this space I thought it might be easier if we received people here…”

When Hyakkimaru didn’t answer her right away, she found herself struggling not to shift on her feet. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything after all. She knew he’d had a fight with his youngest brother the night before, so it might have been a bad idea to continue. But if that was the case, then at least one of them would say something, right?

“Okay.”

“Oh, good!” Okowa clasped her hands to stop herself from fidgeting with her fingers. “Then I’ll get everything ready! Um…I guess actually this room is mostly fine as-is…Oh! Mister Hyaku! Do you mind if I brush your hair out a bit? After all, first impressions are very important and…”

“Okay.”

For a moment, she wondered if she’d imagined the tension in his voice. And Tahomaru’s slight flinch that she saw from the corner of her eye. Maybe it was just that he was meeting so many new people? Oh! Or maybe he didn’t like the brush. But that was something you had to deal with eventually anyway, so…

“You don’t get tender-headed during this kind of thing, do you?” In any event, it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

When he didn’t answer, Tahomaru spoke up from the opposite side of the room. “No, he doesn’t tend to.”

“Oh! Okay, thanks,” she replied. “I’ll still try to be careful with you anyway, okay? Just let me know if I’m pulling or anything.”

She could do this. Everything would be fine.

It would be _fine_ , Tahomaru thought as he chewed at the inside of his cheek, watching her slide the brush through his brother’s hair. She would be _good_ for him, he guessed. For one thing, she spoke to Hyakkimaru and asked him what she wanted to know, instead of expecting Dororo or Tahomaru to do it for him.

Except, with Dororo flipping out and Hyakkimaru agreeing to everything—and maybe that was the same thing making _him_ mix everything up? But then, with everything else, he might have agreed with it regardless, even if he really didn’t want it.

And how was he supposed to explain that his elder brother likely had no idea what she meant by “marry?” That he’d grown up with only one parent, that in the entire time they’d known each other he’d never once mentioned a second parent, and the topic of marriage had certainly never come up. It wasn’t like Tahomaru _wanted_ to think about the fact that his father would probably end up picking his bride for him, or that any of his hypothetical children _might_ end up sacrificed to demons if they couldn’t stop them all before… Besides that, even he wouldn’t have been naïve enough to have asked if Hyakkimaru had been planning to marry Mio. Though he supposed Lord Sabame might have referred to Maimai-Onba as his wife, so he might have heard it there, but at the same time, there had been plenty of _other things_ to worry about, so it’s not like he would have remembered—

Tahomaru forced himself to grip his sleeve. He was _not_ about to start rubbing his eye and he was _certainly not_ about to give himself a headache from overthinking things.

Besides, at least some of the tension seemed to be draining out of Hyakkimaru. If they could keep things relatively calm, at least for awhile, at least until they could figure out just what was going on with this place, and what they had to do to stop it. That would be fine.

Okowa tried to prepare Hyakkimaru as best she could for this, instructing him on how to sit and explaining that people would be coming in, would congratulate them on their marriage, and they would probably bring some kind of gift, which could be placed to their left. But there was pretty much no preparing anyone for the slew of happy “My condolences” and “What a tragedies” that came their way.

Still, she did her best to smile and bow, “Thank you very much!” Even if she would have liked to snap at them that they could at least _pretend_ to like her marriage. They’re always like this. They don’t really mean it, she kept telling herself.

At least until Matsu stepped in and warmly proclaimed, “Oh, my dear Okowa! They say wedding attire makes a girl glow, so I’ll whip something up to make you look shabby! You can count on me!”

That…stung a bit more than she would have liked. Matsu had always been…well, she at least liked her well enough. So, of course, she thanked her for her offer and held the smile on her face until she disappeared from sight.

With a sigh, she turned to Hyakkimaru. Of course his face would be neutral at this point. From his perspective, it just sounded like everyone was insulting them for no reason. Which they kind of were, but…

“You get used to it eventually. It’s really not so bad once you know they’re lying.” Or half-lying. Or playing some very strange extended game that no one had ever bothered to tell her the rules for.

“Mm.” He paused. “What’s…wedding?”

Before she could explain, the sound of footsteps caught her attention. “Hey, good for you, Okowa. I’d been hoping you’d hurry up and get married, so I hope you have a good wedding.” And then Susumu was gone before she could even process what he’d said.

“…Thank you!” she called after him. Wow, what brought that on? Was he feeling bad because he’d spoken poorly of her father’s work so many times? “That’s strange. He’s actually honest for once.”

“Wedding?” Hyakkimaru answered.

“Huh?”

“What’s wedding?” he repeated.

“…Oh! Right, yes!” How to explain what a wedding was. “Um…it means you and I will be husband and wife.”

“Husband and…wife?”

She felt her face heating up. “I…set the date for tomorrow. The sooner the better, right?” That wasn’t really an answer. She just wasn’t expecting having to explain it. She just needed time to think about it.

“Okay.”

She could explain this. It would be fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

But of course, her thoughts were ploughed over by the heavy sound of footsteps sprinting towards their room and slamming the screen all the way open. “Now wait just a damn minute!” Ah. It was Dororo.

“What the hell am I hearing about a wedding? Well, there’s no way you’ll be able to do that without my deepest congratulations!”

He really was trying his best. But it would still take some getting used to. But there’d be plenty of time for that once they started traveling, wouldn’t there? It would probably be better if she didn’t make a big deal out of it, so she thanked him as warmly as she could without sounding over-the-top.

“Look, I don’t give a damn what anyone else says, okay? You two will definitely be happy together!” He bit his lip, dropping several _very_ colorful words before descending on the nearby roots and nori.

And suddenly, alarm flared inside her. It wasn’t time to eat that yet! It wasn’t ready yet! “Wait! Dororo, you can’t eat that yet, it’s not—!”

There was a quick motion behind her and then Hyakkimaru’s hand rested over Dororo’s wrist. “Dororo, it’s okay. I will, become Okowa’s husband.”

The next second, Dororo had wrenched his hand free and sprinted off in the same direction he’d come from. She’d pushed him too hard, setting the date so soon. Hadn’t she?

Hyakkimaru started like he was going to run after him, then stopped. “Dororo looked happy.”

He’d said that before. Just what did that mean?

Maybe this whole thing was more like lancing a wound. They just needed to marry and get it over with, and then Dororo would realize it wasn’t such a terrible thing after all and it wasn’t like he was completely giving up Hyakkimaru forever.

This was fine. It would be fine.

There was really nothing that made sense anymore. Tahomaru had gone somewhere, and he hoped it was to look for Dororo. But he also wasn’t talking to him much anymore, even though his aura didn’t show that he was mad about his marrying Okowa. He might still have been feeling anxious.

Okowa hadn’t really explained what a wedding was, either. She’d said “husband” and “wife,” and apparently it was done at a temple and there was food? Maybe she didn’t know, either? But then it didn’t make sense for her to plan one.

Anyway, he needed to find Dororo, but he couldn’t figure out where he was supposed to look. He didn’t know this village. He needed Tahomaru. But no one seemed to understand what he meant when he said their names—they just kept asking if they were his brothers—and he couldn’t say anything else without it coming out wrong.

_Don’t need Dororo with me._

_I will marry Okowa_.

_Go back._

_Okay._

And no one else seemed to notice anything was wrong. Okowa, maybe. But she kept saying everyone always lied and you just had to get used to it. Even if he _could_ tell her, wouldn’t she think he was lying, too?

“My, how ugly you look.” Hyakkimaru flinched. That was the other problem with this “wedding” thing. Everyone seemed to have decided that everything needed to be done in this room. Which meant there was no getting away from everyone unless he decided to climb out through the window. But if he did that, then what if Tahomaru or Dororo came back and couldn’t find him?

“Such a plain girl,” the person continued. “You put this lovely kimono to waste.”

Even if they did go around lying all the time, that didn’t seem like something you should say to someone as if it was a compliment. What was stranger was that her aura was easy and calm, not twisting in resentment or getting that strange edge which he’d learned meant condescension. Hyakkimaru knew they didn’t see souls like he did, but surely they had to see that Okowa was in pain from their comments?

“Ah! Y-you’re not supposed to see yet!” Several feelings flushed through her aura all at once.

What was he even supposed to be seeing? And besides that, they were the ones who came in here. He turned away and pressed tighter against the window. Climbing out seemed increasingly appealing. But then how would Dororo or Tahomaru know where to find him?

_Don’t need them._

_Won’t go._

_The swords will come here_. That one was different. That one had been right.

“The swords will come here.” That one was still right. Why was that one okay? “The swords will come here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't end up POV-switching anywhere near as much as I had thought I was going to for this chapter (and admittedly spent way more time researching names than I meant to). But I did get to write more of Okowa!
> 
> Up until I wrote this chapter, I didn't really understand how the spell worked. I had mistakenly thought that it was caused by temporal exposure or the ghoul's direct interference. So my understanding of Dororo's being affected was that it resulted from being in proximity to Hyakkimaru. And that for some reason Munetsuna and Okowa had some kind of immunity which they weren't aware of. In hindsight, there are some pretty obvious context clues that I missed, and I'm not entirely sure how I managed to miss them for over a year. (That's actually why Tahomaru initially seemed unaffected in chapter 11, because I didn't know he was supposed to be affected yet ^_^') 
> 
> I probably won't go back and fix it, so for this continuity, it will probably be a mix of protection by the mask and temporal exposure that influences how it works.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	14. Desperation

There had to be something that would explain what was happening. The problem was that Tahomaru had no way of asking someone anything which might help him figure it out, not if he expected to receive an answer that was actually helpful. And he had spent enough time testing this to know that was a fact.

At times, he could piece together that something was an opposite. It was obvious when something was a simple negation or just blatantly not true.

_Munetsuna’s work isn’t good._

_Don’t need them._

_Dororo looked happy._

_No, I don’t know where the temple is_ (obviously a lie, said while pointing towards the temple).

But then that wasn’t even consistent. The person who’d told them where to find Munetsuna had been correct.

There were also times when words were flipped around. Not technically a negation or an opposite, but still incorrect.

_I’ll wait here if you go look for Dororo._

In hindsight, “Go back” might have been this as well. Or was that still technically an opposite?

This one seemed like it would be harder to recognize. He hadn't been able to identify it when he'd talked to the other villagers.

And then there were others still where it wasn’t _really_ false, just not entirely true.

 _Not joking._ Obviously not, when he was grabbing his own throat and biting his hands to try to stop talking. But the other things he’d said probably didn’t reflect what he meant either.

 _Dororo runs off all the time._ That wasn’t exactly false, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth, either. Dororo _did_ run off, but never far before Hyakkimaru would find him. 

So then how was he supposed to know what would be what? If _he_ could speak normally, then he might be able to piece it together, but the way he was right now, it meant he had to figure out what _they_ thought he meant or if they were answering exactly what he said, and then guess every possible meaning based on that. Which, he supposed he should be used to from the negotiations he’d practiced, but this was completely different. This time, he had _no_ control over what he himself might say.

At this point, he supposed he should be glad that “elder brother” wasn’t coming out as “demon” or something worse. And equally terrified of tempting fate by thinking that.

He hadn’t managed to cross paths with Dororo, either. Which, he tried to convince himself, meant that Dororo probably didn’t want to be found just yet. If that wasn’t the case…someone would have at least said _something_ , right? Even if it made no sense?

So no answers, no Dororo, and no idea where to proceed from there. Then he needed to start over. A different question. Was there anyone who wasn’t affected? He thought back.

Okowa hadn’t seemed to mix her words up. She seemed to think everyone else was lying. Then she probably didn’t know. But what gave her immunity?

That would be the next thing he would look into. But, for the time being, the sun was getting low, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to leave Hyakkimaru alone any longer than he had to with everything happening. The least he could do was keep one of them safe.

When he arrived in their room, he was greeted by the sight of Hyakkimaru pressed against the window, not having closed it for the night, staring like he didn’t register anything.

“Hyakkimaru!” he started, then caught himself. No, if he was in that state, then adding more racket only made things worse. Were questions still safe from the curse? Maybe it was better not to risk it.

Then they were back to trial and error. Wonderful.

At least to start, he could do away with the sounds of insects outside. Reaching past his elder brother, Tahomaru slid the window shut. Now, was contact still all right at this moment?

“Brother, is it—” Well, at least he knew he wouldn’t call him a demon by mistake. At least for now. But even if he’d managed the question, it wasn’t like Hyakkimaru could answer like this. So he reached for his back, squeezing once, waiting for the flinch.

When that didn’t happen, he led him away from the window and gestured for him to sit down. His hands weren’t pressing his head. Then maybe whatever had caused the overwhelm had passed.

“Tahomaru?” His voice came softly.

It wasn’t like he could answer an affirmative. But maybe if he wasn’t overwhelmed, he could give him one of his hands? Reaching for his right, Tahomaru found that he offered little resistance as he placed his hand on his left cheek, letting him feel the nod.

“The swords will come here.”

They knew that already—wait. No, that was right. Then, would it work for him, too?

“The swords will come here,” he answered. Yes, it seemed it would. So why this one, then?

“Dororo?”

Tahomaru shook his head. He wished he could have offered something more than gestures.

“Dororo...looked happy.”

 _Today or yesterday?_ he wanted to ask. Would he manage it if he tried?

“The sswords will…come here.” Was Hyakkimaru running his own experiment? But he could still hear the distress in his voice, and that slurring meant he probably wasn’t in a position to keep testing things.

There wasn’t much else he could do. As he laid out the bedding and gestured his brother over, Tahomaru wondered if he’d end up getting any sleep at all. Would it be better to give him something to make him sleep? But then, would he even be able to ask for it? And even if he could, would Hyakkimaru swallow it? Or spit it out?

And that wasn’t even considering the aftereffects of it…No, the last thing either of them needed was to wake up in the morning with a searing headache. If he knew how much he could drink while avoiding that, it would be one thing, but that was a space for error they didn’t have right now.

“The…swordss will, come here.”

Still, it was tempting. If it could give him just a few hours… But then what was the cost of those few hours? With their luck, he’d end up having all the negative effects and not even get to sleep for it. Probably better not to do that while he couldn’t explain to Hyakkimaru what he _had_ meant to do.

But when he gestured for him to lie down, Hyakkimaru resisted, continuing to stare at the door. How could he explain that he couldn’t go looking for Dororo in his current state? That he needed him to rest, that they could look for him the next morning or, if he was worried, that Tahomaru could go looking for him after he’d gone to sleep.

He reached towards his face, pausing to see if he would flinch, then began to run his fingers over his forehead. This one would still make sense, wouldn’t it? _You need to sleep. Please, calm down._

After a few minutes, he tried again. This time, he allowed Tahomaru to help him lie down and cover him with the blanket, though he continued mumbling about the swords.

It would be better in the morning. They would be rested, they would find Dororo, they would get to the bottom of this. Munetsuna would finish the swords and that would be that.

They just had to make it to then.

* * *

This sucked. This was supposed to be an easy trip and his first chance to do some thieving in a long while, and it had all just turned into one big steaming pile of shit! Just why in the hell did everything have to blow up in their faces now?

Bro wanted to quit their journey, Tahomaru was next to completely unhelpful in convincing him otherwise, and Dororo himself kept mixing up everything he wanted to say! And then there was Okowa, acting all calm and cheerful like she thought it would _help_ him!

He couldn’t even practice his thieving anymore! Every time he tried, his mind wandered back to their fight and his big bro saying over and over that he didn’t need his swords and he was going to marry Okowa and he quit the journey and why, why, _why_ had he not seen this coming sooner? It wasn’t like they didn’t know each other!

Ripping up grass and kicking dirt wasn’t doing anything for him. For a moment, he almost wished Saburota was still around, just so he’d have something to punch. _If he knew what he’d said,_ would it have helped?

Dororo sat down, hard, and buried his face in his hands. Damn. Shit. Why couldn’t this just be a bad dream?

He needed to do _something_ , because at this point, he was going to end up losing it!

“Fine,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “If bro doesn’t need his swords anymore, then I’ll start by stealing from _him!_ ” 

Dororo had a pretty good idea of the window he was working within. Munetsuna had gone out, and the furnace had been dark for awhile. Hopefully, this meant he was gone for the night. Even if he came back to the house, he probably wouldn’t come back in here. Then this was his chance.

He’d slipped into the house, moving down the hall, and sliding open the door to Munetsuna’s forge. It wasn’t exactly the most impressive way to get in and out, but at this point, he needed stealth, not style. If he’d come in through the window, he might have fallen on something and given himself away.

The workshop was…well, it wasn’t _that_ much creepier in the dark. Just that some of the masks looked a little…angrier…in shadow.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. If Hyakkimaru wasn’t going to use the swords anymore, why make someone put all that work into them? It wasn’t that different than throwing out old fruit that had gone bad.

With a huff, Dororo went back to surveying the room. He didn’t need to go justifying himself to a bunch of masks. But if he’d known this would be the place he ended up stealing from, he would have paid a lot more attention to where everything was the first time.

It took a bit longer than he would have liked before he located one of the blades, but at least he wasn’t so rusty he couldn’t find it. His hand closed around the end. Looked like the chipped one. Then Munetsuna must have taken the other one somewhere.

Crap! Did that mean he might come back? Dororo thought about setting it down. Maybe he should come back at another time. Wait until he was for sure gone for the night.

What did he even need the sword for? More purifying? Testing it? Without a hilt?

No, he told himself. He was the Great Thief Dororo. He had set out to steal his brother’s sword, and dammit, he was going to do it.

He turned to leave and smacked right into a monster.

Keeping his grip on the sword, he backpedaled, nearly stumbling and losing his balance. This wasn’t what he expected his first night back on the job!

The monster stood almost motionless, save for a hand that slowly reached up and lifted its face away to reveal Munetsuna. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Shit, don’t scare me like that!” Dororo shrieked. “I’m holding a fricking sword!”

“I could say the same of you,” he answered, calmly walking over and placing a blade in one of the stands.

So that was big bro’s sword? Just looking at it, he wouldn’t have known it was the broken one except that he had the other one right there. Almost made the left one look like a sorry sight, all chipped and scratched.

“It isn’t done yet,” Munetsuna continued. “I’ve only been to purify it.”

 _That_ was what “not done” looked like?

“Though I can’t imagine that’s what you wanted to do with the other one.”

Dororo’s heart dropped into his stomach. Shit.

What he really should have done was to drop the sword and bolt. If he said anything about it later, he could claim he hadn’t been there and he must have been dreaming. Or he could just pretend he had no idea what he was talking about. Or just run as far away as he could and never look back.

But instead, he found himself swallowing. “No,” he mumbled. “It wasn’t.”

“A sword without a hilt isn’t much use to someone like you,” Munetsuna mused.

“I guess it didn’t really matter what happened after I took it,” Dororo answered, turning away so he didn’t have to look at him. It wasn’t like he needed to see another person mad at him.

“It doesn’t make much sense to take it if you don’t know what you want to do with it.”

“Look, if you’re going to scold me, I don’t need to hear it.” He could already feel his nerves simmering down, and he didn’t want to wind up crying in front of this guy.

Munetsuna came and sat down beside him, facing himself in the opposite direction and barely reacting when Dororo flinched and crawled farther away. “No,” he said. “Just trying to make sense of why you did it.”

It wasn’t like he owed him an explanation. And yet he found himself answering. “Big bro says he doesn’t want to hunt demons anymore. I figured if he doesn’t want to travel anymore, there’s no reason he needs his swords.”

He half-expected Munetsuna to try and make sense of what he was saying. Ask him some questions that would help him parse it out. Maybe insist that couldn’t be all it was. But he didn’t answer. Only gave a small hum to show he was listening.

And maybe it was just that Dororo wanted someone who would listen, or maybe he needed to prove to himself that everyone wasn’t Saburota. Whatever. It didn’t matter why. “He says he’s giving up ‘cause he wants to marry your daughter, but I don’t think that’s the real reason. There’s…there’s just been a lot of bad shit going down lately, worse than normal. And…”

It wasn’t like he had to go spilling everything. “There was someone who said he’d help us, but then he ended up causing some of the bad shit. And he said something to my bro that made him get real freaked out, but I didn’t hear what it was. I think _that’s_ why he wants to quit.”

This was his way of running off and hiding. And Okowa didn’t seem to set off anything for him. He hadn’t thought he looked it at the time, but looking back, his big bro had been so happy when he was with Mio and the kids. It made sense he’d go looking for something similar to that.

“Hm.” Dororo almost wished Munetsuna would say something more. A guy his age as serious as him had to have _some_ idea what to do in this situation, right?

“I may be younger, but I’ve known him the longest of us.” His heart thumped in his throat. He was telling him too much. But maybe this time it would be okay? “He’s helped me out with a lot of things, and I help him out with a lot of stuff, too. Different stuff, but a lot, you know?”

Like how to find the words he was looking for, or how to calm himself down when things were too much. Or how to wash stuff without tearing it. Little things, mostly, compared to bro keeping monsters and samurai off him and helping him find food and carrying him when he hurt his feet from walking too much. But those little things had always been important to him.

“Only now, I can’t do that anymore. I keep saying stuff I don’t mean, and instead of talking him through shit I just yell at him. Even if I don’t want to.” Dororo sniffed, refusing to wipe his eyes. If he didn’t acknowledge he was crying, it wasn’t real, right? “ _Shit._ ”

There was a long silence, save for Dororo’s sniffling and frantic attempts not to whimper. He was almost glad Munetsuna didn’t try to say anything or touch his back or anything. But he didn’t want to be doing this in the first place, and he finally balled up his hands over his mouth until he could breathe normally again.

A few moments after, Munetsuna spoke up. “It’s not easy to deal with,” he said evenly. “Try sleeping it off. See if you find your answer in the morning.”

Dororo huffed in spite of himself. Like that would really help.

Munetsuna stood, his knees popping, and headed towards the door. “I have a daughter,” he said. “A son’s not so different.”

And then he was gone.

What a weird guy, Dororo thought. His eyes weren’t feeling that heavy. Just because he was all wrung out from telling him all that crap. It wasn’t like he’d get that much sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between the three of them, they've got a decent part of the curse figured out. The problem is just that none of them has figured out how to communicate what they know to the others.
> 
> Much to my surprise, I ended up enjoying writing Munetsuna. I don't think he'll end up getting a POV section, largely because I don't know that I can get comfortable writing from inside his head in the time I have. Though I may file him in my list of things I want to write later.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	15. The Mask that Hides Your Face

The next time he opened his eyes, there was a light streaming in through the window. That was weird, Dororo was pretty sure he’d only just closed them.

Wait, where was he? He sat up with a jolt.

There was a scraping sound behind him and he whipped around. Munetsuna had one of the swords out and was putting something on it.

Oh. That was right. He’d come here last night to try and take his big bro’s swords.

He stood up and tried to lean over and see just what he was doing. He’d never seen a sword get made before. Just what was that weird stuff supposed to do?

“Don’t stand so close,” Munetsuna’s gruff voice drifted out.

“Oh. Sh…sorry.” He took a step back, angling himself so he could see better without standing right on top of him.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably not even a minute, Dororo spoke up again. “Aren’t you gonna go to Okowa’s wedding?”

Without even missing a beat, Munetsuna answered, “Nothing is more important to a swordmaker than making swords. Okowa understands that.”

Not even his own daughter’s wedding? That was kind of cold. If it had been him, he would have wanted his brothers there. And his parents, if that had been an option. “So I guess you must really like swords, huh.” Tahomaru would have been proud of that understatement.

“Do you hate them?”

Heh. Only when they belonged to someone else. And when they were too big for him to wield. And when they had demons living inside them. “Not really. It’s the samurai I hate.”

The image of his papa back when he could walk was already starting to fade from his memory. He only had a few flashes of his mama stealing money and food, before she’d gotten too weak to use a sword. The samurai responsible were probably already dead. But sometimes, he still saw them in the others.

“I see.” Munetsuna paused. “You could say it's the same for me. I hate the violence that comes with swords and killing.”

“Hm?” Dororo’s head tilted, and he reminded himself to step back to avoid crowding him. If he hated them, why keep making them?

“My goal is to make a sword that makes fighting cease. A sword that makes the enemy see they’re no match and give up.”

That wasn’t really possible. Even if they knew they were no match, they’d still try to challenge it. That’s just what people were like. But it would be nice if that wasn’t true…

“It won’t be easy, of course,” he continued. “I might not even live to see it happen. But I don’t want to use my powers for the wrong cause.”

“So you mean like I shouldn’t steal from my own brother?” This wasn’t about to turn into a lecture on not stealing, was it? But maybe Dororo had some other skills besides that. Mostly the little things for now. But those were important, too. At least to Hyakkimaru, they were. And maybe to Tahomaru as well.

“I need to get back to my brothers,” he said. “I need to…I don’t know, we need to get through this shit and then we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Is that what you think?” There was no condescension in his tone, and yet something about that pissed him off.

“Why the hell wouldn’t it be?” he snapped. Wait. “Hey, how long have I been talking normal?”

Was it since he’d been in here? And Munetsuna was normal, too. And Okowa…Okowa had told them when they met that everyone else in the village was lying. So probably she was normal.

“Hey, what’s it about this place that makes us okay?” But it hadn’t just been in this place that they’d been okay. Had it? When had he _stopped_ being able to speak? When he’d come to the announcement? No, before that…

That was right, it was that first time he and Hyakkimaru had fought. Right after he’d first started yelling at him. When he’d thrown the mask and said—

Shit, he needed to apologize for that. If he hadn’t been able to say what he meant, probably that meant what bro said wasn’t his fault, either. But he’d been talking weird before that. And that wasn’t completely unexpected. He was tired, things had been rough on him and that made it harder for him to talk, but then…

Why didn’t he just stop talking? They’d been really upset, enough that even Dororo could almost imagine spiking angry auras floating around them. But Hyakkimaru kept talking, almost like he couldn’t stop. And that would have fit almost anyone in their group _but_ Hyakkimaru. So, what, was it something wrong with the inn? Or had there been something before that?

There was that weird joke he played at the temple, that he’d acted all confused over, and that was right after… “The bug bite!” Dororo cried out. It wasn’t a bug after all, was it? “I have to get to the temple!”

At that, Munetsuna stood. “If you’re planning to go there,” he said, walking towards the wall where the masks hung. “Then you should first prepare yourself.”

When he had woken up that morning, Tahomaru had roused Hyakkimaru, and pointed to himself, then to the door, then Hyakkimaru, and to the mat. It may not have been the most effective way to get his point across, but at least his elder brother had put his head back down and let him pull the blanket back over him. Hopefully, this meant he wouldn’t panic if he got up and no one else was there.

The way to the temple looked a little different in the morning light, but between the memories he had of the place, and the person pointing and telling him it wasn’t in that direction, he was fairly certain he had it figured out.

Of course, running into Dororo at the base of the hill also helped. “Are you going to the temple, too?”

“I’m n—what I mean is—”

“Oh! Hang on!” Dororo unhooked the mask from his head. “Use this.”

Tahomaru was tempted to ask just what that had to do with anything, but Dororo had practically thrown it into his hands. “Yes, I’m going to the temple. What does the mask have anything to do with—?”

“Nothing at all—” Dororo slammed his hand over his mouth and held out his hand for the mask.

This was certainly one of the weirder starts to his day. But he passed it back to him nonetheless.

“The masks block the weird-talking spell. I don’t know why but they do. So as long as you’ve got one, it can’t do anything and you’ll talk normally.” Dororo paused. “Oh, and also if you’re in the forge, you don’t have to be touching them, but I think outside you do.”

He tossed it back so suddenly that Tahomaru nearly dropped it. “If you knew that, why’d you only grab one!”

Before he could pass it back, Dororo had latched on. “It’s not like I knew you were coming! And anyway, there was another one in your room you could have grabbed!”

That was fair. But still. “How was I supposed to know it was the masks?”

“Well, whatever, it seems to work just fine like this. Let’s just both keep a hand on it.” This was going to be more awkward than he’d thought, having to match paces with Dororo on an uphill run, but if it was too strange, he supposed he could always just offer to carry him.

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

Even before Hyakkimaru sat up, he knew he was alone in the room. Dororo hadn’t come back at any point that night—he’d been awake for enough of it to know that much—and Tahomaru had gone to check on something, but wanted him to stay in the room and rest.

Was he still supposed to be resting? He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Tahomaru left, but at the very least, it felt like it was long enough that he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep.

So then maybe it was okay to get up. Actually, maybe it was better to get up. A lot of yesterday still didn’t make sense, but “wedding” and “tomorrow” had been said repeatedly. That probably meant that more was going to be done here today, and that Okowa would come looking for him here. But if he left, Dororo and Tahomaru might not know where to look for him, and the swords were going to be brought here. If he wasn’t there when they arrived, what would happen?

Maybe it would be okay if he didn’t go very far. That way, if his brothers or his swords came here, he could get back before they left. If it was one of his brothers, he should be able to recognize their aura.

He started to leave, but he remembered yesterday, Tahomaru had folded up the blankets and put them away. Then that meant he should probably do that, too. His folding wouldn’t be as precise, and he wouldn’t be able to get it put away the same as it was—actually, where _had_ he put the blankets yesterday? It seemed like it should have been obvious. But as long as it was out of the way, it was fine, right?

It took several tries more than he thought it should have before he’d gotten them folded, and even then, when he moved it, parts of it tried to come unfolded. _It would be fine_ , he told himself. Dororo and Tahomaru could help him get it right later.

But once he got outside, he heard a call of, “Mister Hyaku! Oh, good, you’re already up! Then we can get to the temple early, and I can show you what to expect—”

Before he fully realized what he was doing, Hyakkimaru had latched onto the post of the inn with both hands, wrapping his arms around it so he would be harder to pry off.

“Oh, are you nervous? Don’t worry, if we get there early, I can help you prepare. There’s no need to get panicky over it. At some point, you just have to do it.”

Hyakkimaru tightened his grip. At this point, he was thinking about wrapping his legs around it, too.

“Hey, come on,” she said, a nervous edge slipping into her voice. “We have to go to the temple.”

“Why?”

“Because, that’s where the wedding is! And then after that, we’ll come back here and the villagers will hold a celebration for us.”

After this wedding thing, they would come back here. “The swords will come here.”

“They’ll be here when you get back!” she cried. “Come on, let’s go!”

She had grabbed onto his arms, trying to make him release the post. Even if he couldn’t say it and she couldn’t see auras, couldn’t she understand he didn’t want to do the wedding? One of his arms started slipping and he felt his own panic rising.

“ _The swords will come here_.”

He kept repeating those words, “The swords will come here.” It wasn’t like she was going to let him go without them. She was the swordmaker’s daughter. She’d seen the amount of work that went into everything, even hatchets and the like. _Of course_ she understood how important swords were.

So she told him as much. “Don’t worry. My papa’s working on them right now. He’ll make sure they get to you even if it’s not here.”

“The swords will come _here_.”

It was just pre-wedding nerves. It had to be. There was no way there was something _that wrong_ with her that even someone who wanted to marry her before would suddenly change his mind.

Or maybe it was just the idea of a wedding itself? The ceremony? Being in front of so many people? But that was just something you had to deal with eventually.

“It’s okay!” she continued, trying to unbend his arms from the post. “The people at the temple won’t be that loud. You’ll barely even know they’re there! And then, when we get back—”

She managed to unhook him and he nearly flailed before she managed to get him to his feet. “—I’ll tell them they need to be quieter for the ceremony!”

It wasn’t that big a deal! They just needed to get to the temple, then through the ceremony, and then it would be over and Dororo would realize he wasn’t losing a brother, and Hyakkimaru would realize he wasn’t having to lose his swords and—

Somewhere in there, he stopped squirming and allowed her to lead him, if at an awkward angle. That was…better, right? Even if he kept repeating, “The swords will come here.”

It would be fine. It had to be.

“Think that’s what’s been messing us up lately?” Dororo asked, pointing towards the roof of the temple.

Judging by the very annoyed look on the imp’s face, and its blatant frustration when they didn’t respond to the movements it threw their way, it seemed like it might fit. “It seems to be.”

“All right, then,” Dororo snatched up a large rock, dragging Tahomaru closer. “Then let’s deal with this pest!”

And with that, he threw the rock right between the creature’s eyes, sending it tumbling off the roof and falling flat on its face.

“Okay, now what do we do?” Dororo asked.

“You don’t have a plan?” Tahomaru felt the blood draining from his face. “Then what were you going to do if that thing attacked!”

“It’s not like _you_ weren’t coming here, too!” he snapped back.

“I was only here to see if anything was off! It’s not like I _knew_ something would be here!” This would get them nowhere. And if they kept arguing, that imp would end up running away, and Tahomaru’s mind was already playing out scenarios where the spell _didn’t_ lift as soon as they left town.

Stooping down, he picked up a slightly smaller rock than the one Dororo had thrown. “I suppose there’s always your solution?”

Which was a little more like improvising than a plan, really, but at this point, that seemed to be the way things worked for them. Besides, with that thing already pushing itself to its feet, it wasn’t like they had time for much else.

“Sure, works for me. Knock it out, figure it out from there.” Which certainly sounded like Dororo having at least part of a plan. But it wasn’t like he could complain about it.

But before they could throw them, a voice behind them called, “Hey…what are you doing here early?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half your party is sleep-deprived, and the other half is fully ready to rush in with no real plan. Which might be fairly routine for this group, just with each member alternating on who's sleep-deprived and who's improvising.
> 
> This chapter title comes from the Spectacular Spider-Man episode, "The Uncertainty Principle," in which the Green Goblin taunts Spider-Man by saying that, "We all wear masks, but which one is real? The one that hides your face or the one that is your face?" 
> 
> I've sometimes wondered to what extent Munetsuna really believes he could create a sword that makes fighting cease, particularly since a similar sentiment was displayed by the character of Shakku Arai in the RuroKen series, but this character became increasingly cynical about the possibility of that ever happening. But since, in the episode, Munetsuna acknowledges that this sword may not come to exist in his lifetime, it's possible his ideals around it will be less prone to eroding into cynicism. 
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	16. Breathe

Hyakkimaru felt it before Okowa saw it. An aura which pulsed with malice, but more than that, enjoyment. This thing was _happy_ with the trouble it caused.

“What in the world is _that_?!” Okowa shrieked. Whatever this thing looked like to them, it must not have been pretty.

A startled flare surged from both his brothers as well as Okowa. As her grip slackened, he took the opportunity to pull himself loose and run to them.

“Bro!” Dororo cried. “It was at the temple—that ghoul’s probably what made us talk weird!”

A ghoul? Even without his swords, he knew what to do about that. And once he had dealt with _that_ , things would be better again. Right?

“Wait! You don’t have pr—” Hyakkimaru was already after it before Tahomaru could finish the warning.

And within two steps of the creature, it sent out something that froze him in place. He could feel his knees locking and spine straightening as it forced him to an upright halt. What Tahomaru had tried to warn him over…it had been something important. Hadn’t it.

The ghoul swung its arms, and Hyakkimaru found himself abruptly spun around, facing the opposite direction. He felt it trying to push him forwards, and tried to fight it, but it was as if there were cords running through his body, pulling tighter and tighter until his muscles burned and something like nausea built up inside of him.

And then suddenly, he was lurching forwards, body moving faster than it should have been. Everything felt like he was just barely stuck together, everything moving separately and yet somehow all still attached.

“Bro! Wait, no! The other way! Not—” Dororo started backing up and running, but he was too late.

No, no, what was it trying to make him do? He felt that horrible tension building up in his arms again, almost wrenching his shoulders, and then his hands closed on Dororo’s throat. Immediately, Dororo’s hands flew over his wrists, struggling and flailing to get loose, frantically trying to choke out his name, aura flaring with so much fear he could barely see him.

He tried to force his hands loose, but everything just kept locking, the cords pulling tighter. Burning.

There was another presence on either side of him. Calling something. But he couldn’t make it out. One was Tahomaru, right? Tahomaru was stronger than Dororo. He could _make_ him let go.

“Stop it! You’re going to kill—”

“If he could, he would have _done that_ by now!”

One of the hands was over his forearms. Trying to break them or pull him loose? Dororo gagged beneath him and he wanted to scream.

Tahomaru _needed_ to pop his forearms off. But how could he tell them that? His words didn’t work. His muscles didn’t work. Nothing worked! And now Dororo was going to—

There was a scream beside him and then suddenly the cords snapped. Dororo sucked in a breath and then promptly choked on it, and Hyakkimaru shoved himself backwards. Why was he breathing heavily? _He_ wasn’t the one who’d been choked.

Dororo rolled over and pushed himself up, coughing and rubbing his throat. Tahomaru was beside him, running a hand over his back and turning himself like he was trying to see if anything was still wrong.

The sound of screams and grunts continued. There was an angry, hurt flaring of a soul behind him. Okowa. She must have done something to stop it.

And Dororo’s breathing evened out. Everything should have been fine.

The cords were broken, but he could still feel them in his body. The constant building of something _wrong,_ something…

He needed to focus on Dororo. _Dororo_ was the one who’d been hurt. But how was he even supposed to help when this time, _he’d_ been the one used to hurt him? Because he couldn’t even fight off a minor demon like that. Because something was _wrong_ and he couldn’t fix it and…

He pressed his hands to the sides of his head. No. _No!_ He couldn’t do this now! Hyakkimaru bit down on the insides of his cheeks. Nothing was eating him. Nothing was biting him. He couldn’t do this now!

“Brother?” Tahomaru’s voice called. Worried.

“ _Dororo_ ,” he forced the words out.

“Dororo’s going to be okay,” he answered.

_Then why wasn’t Dororo the one telling him that?_

“Scared.”

“You are or he is?” Alarm shot through with that.

His sound came out as a strained whine. Not a real answer.

“Dororo, are you going to be all right if I…?”

The next thing he realized, there was a steady pressure all around him. Arms tight around his back. Forehead pressed against the top edge of his. Tahomaru.

And Hyakkimaru wanted to thrash and throw him off. He needed to be helping _Dororo_ right now! Why didn’t he understand that?

“Is this hurting you?” Tahomaru asked.

It was. It felt like the hill with Saburota, with the rain making his skin too thin. But…he also couldn’t feel the cords through his grip.

“Dororo…”

“Dororo’s going to be okay,” he repeated his earlier words.

Hyakkimaru wanted to ask how he knew. Wanted to shake loose and see. His aura was blocking him and his own emotions were flaring too much to be able to feel them. Even if he wasn’t even sure what those _were_ in that moment. His body felt drained, and he let himself go slack.

This time, he didn’t ask for Dororo again until Tahomaru let go of him, keeping close in case he needed him again. Hyakkimaru didn’t trust himself to get up, but he held his arms out for Dororo, who threw himself into them a bit _too_ easily.

“Hey bro…sorry I doubted you before.” Dororo’s apology stung more than Tahomaru’s grip had.

He shook his head. “Sorry, I hurt…”

“I know.”

Dororo tightened his hold around him, and Hyakkimaru returned it as much as he dared.

Okowa gave the demon one last kick, satisfied that it was unconscious when it no longer reacted. Maybe she shouldn’t have acted out, but when Dororo had said that _thing_ had been making them talk weird, the pieces had suddenly fit in her mind. That thing was responsible for the way everyone talked about her and her father. All that time, she’d thought they were just liars or playing some kind of game they didn’t want her to join. And then it had gone and tried to kill Dororo.

The initial rock she’d thrown had just been a panicked last-ditch effort to stop it. When she’d gone after it, she’d been thinking _what if it got back up and continued?_ And then…it was a demon, wasn’t it? It was going to take a lot more than that to subdue it.

And then every sharp comment and stinging remark had come back up and that _thing_ was right there, and she had _heard_ it giggling as it forced her betrothed to strangle his little brother.

She stood there a moment, waiting to see if it would revive. When it didn’t, she took a breath and turned to the brothers. Hyakkimaru was sitting up, with Dororo in his arms, and Tahomaru at their side.

“Is everyone all right?” she asked.

Hyakkimaru flinched, but continued running his hand along Dororo’s back.

“I believe we should be. I’m sorry to have troubled you with rescuing us,” Tahomaru answered her.

It wasn’t like it was anything she shouldn’t have done.

“I thought you might need this,” Okowa jumped as her papa appeared behind her, holding a mask and a club, a second mask on his face. “Seems you’ve handled it.”

Okowa blinked several times. It couldn’t be that easy. Not after all the trouble it had been giving them.

“Help me move this creature into the temple,” he said.

Oh! So Bishamon was supposed to finish it off. Together, they dragged it to the foot of the statue.

“Just what was that thing?” Tahomaru was suddenly behind them.

“Legend has it there was an amanojaku that worked mischief in this village,” her papa answered, bowing to the god’s statue. “But it was confined here.”

“Hm. When did it get out?” Dororo had joined them in the temple, Hyakkimaru still clinging to him.

Her father only shrugged. “Who knows.”

Okowa felt a shudder run through her body. An amanojaku, especially one that could escape from Bishamon, could do much worse than cause mischief. It almost _had_ done much worse. But then…if it could control her betrothed’s movements, right down to the fingers of his prosthetics…why hadn’t it tried to stop her? Had the rock really stunned it that badly?

No, but even before that, it had never been able to twist her words around, or her father’s. What was so different about—the masks!

“Then the Hyottoko protected us after all,” she said, feeling a surge of gratitude.

Suddenly, the statue shifted, and the amanojaku vanished. Though something about the statue seemed different—no, more balanced—than before.

They really had been lucky things hadn’t been worse. Okowa bowed and took a breath, then slowly, everyone turned and left the temple.

“Then,” she said after a moment. “We should continue with the wedding. It’s not really proper, but considering everything that’s happened I think it would be all right if you wanted to keep your brother with you, just until we get back to the—”

Wait.

But if the demon had been making everyone say the opposite of what they meant, and the Hyottoko were the only things protecting her and her papa from its influence, and Hyakkimaru had been saying he wanted to marry while under its influence, then…

“ _Shit_ ,” she hissed, quietly enough that she hoped the others hadn’t heard her. A sense of horror washed over her. “Don’t worry!” she cried, turning back to them. “I get it now! You don’t have to marry if you’re not ready! We’ll just explain to the others what happened, and we can apologize for the commotion and everything will be fine.”

It might have stung, seeing the relief in Hyakkimaru’s face just then. But, she reminded herself, it would have been worse if she’d found out later.

On the way back, Okowa had explained what was going to happen. People were going to gather in a designated spot, where the two of them would explain how the demon had compelled everyone to speak in lies. She had figured she would do the majority of the talking, since she knew them better—or at least, a version of them. The only thing Hyakkimaru needed to do was to apologize once she had finished explaining.

He knew how to say, “Sorry,” and the brothers had explained to Okowa that he should be able to say a more formal version if she said it first for him to repeat. It wasn’t that he didn’t mean it, Tahomaru had wanted her to understand.

She thought she could understand at least a little of that.

When the people had gathered, Okowa saw Hyakkimaru’s fists tighten as he stood a little straighter. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “It’ll be fine.”

If everyone had too many questions, her papa was there to step in. He’d always been good at quickly giving answers and ending conversations. Tahomaru and Dororo were there, too, and she had no doubt they’d be able to quickly spirit him away if they needed to.

Hyakkimaru may not have been in love with her after all, but…she hoped he would at least remember her fondly.

Okowa took a breath and quietly blew it out. She didn’t see whether he copied her or not, but it would probably help him if he did.

The most important parts of the story were that the demon had put a spell on everyone to make them say the opposite of what they meant, and that this meant Hyakkimaru actually _didn’t_ want to marry her, but that he hadn’t been able to correct the misunderstanding because the spell would have changed that, too. So it wasn’t really his fault at all.

Also, that the demon had been dealt with and so they didn’t have to worry about it happening again. (But if it did, it would probably be a good idea to check the temple first…)

“In any event,” she said, bowing slightly, both in apology and so that Hyakkimaru would remember this was the part he was supposed to copy. “We’re very sorry to have troubled you.”

His bow was slighter than hers, but he repeated, “Sorry to…have troubled you.”

There was a low murmur through the crowd, but everyone at least looked like they had accepted the apology. Good, now things could go back to normal. A real normal, not the one where everyone insulted her and her father.

Though, it was still a little sad to think that there wouldn’t be a wedding. It was really such a shame to have wasted Matsu’s hard work. And she would have to remember who had given her what.

How many bites had Dororo taken out of the food they’d been given again?

“Okowa!” Susumu’s voice suddenly rang out as he pushed his way forward. “It’s all right! You didn’t need to marry that guy anyway!”

Right, that was the point in their having cleared up the misunderstanding.

“For a long time, I’ve been unable to tell you how I felt. But, now that I can speak again, I promise, I’ll make you happier than this grouchy-faced guy over here. So…will you marry me?”

His face wasn’t grouchy, it was just a normal face. Just like her dad’s face when he was forging or thinking. And besides that, he only looked grouchy because he was still shaken up from the demon and—

Wait.

He’d also said—

“ _What?!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Okowa beating up the amanojaku was another thing that sprang out of the Dororo Discord when the conversation swung towards how she might feel about everyone talking crap on her and her dad all the time. Someone mentioned having her beat up the amanojaku, and I opted to take that idea for this fic. 
> 
> Also ended up reading Uriko-hime so that I would know a bit of background on the amanojaku. Let's say I'm mildly surprised and mildly relieved episode 19 did not turn out to be one of the darker episodes.
> 
> There's a little bit left to be done with this. I don't know that the next chapter will be as long as some of these, but we are winding down a bit with the events of this one.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	17. Readjusting

Okowa, much to Dororo’s utter surprise, had accepted the man’s proposal, and instead of rescheduling the wedding, they simply changed the groom. Maybe she was just the forgiving type, but if it had been Dororo, he wasn’t so sure he could have moved on from the insults that quickly, even if the other person didn’t really mean it. Though he guessed she could also have gotten it all out when she’d beat up the demon.

Heh. Maybe he should try that, too.

They hadn’t gone to the celebration. In the end, none of them was certain whether or not they’d actually been invited, and at this point, it probably wasn’t such a good idea to expose Hyakkimaru to the crowd. Even outside the inn, with everyone else inside, he’d ended up needing his cloth over his ears. Some stuff just made that worse, and he figured a demon yanking you around like a puppet was one of those things.

Actually, he didn’t have to figure. He’d had it happen once. And subsequently sworn off all swords except ones his big bro had used first. And occasionally forgotten he’d decided that…

Still, he hoped Okowa would at least save them some of the food. As payment for helping with the demon and all. Even if she’d…kinda…ended up rescuing them…

“Damn, I really am getting rusty,” he sighed, half-expecting to be met with a confused stare from his big bro.

But Hyakkimaru kept his eyes fixed on the upper room of the inn. Apparently he’d asked Okowa what a wedding was. Maybe he was trying to figure it out by looking at it. Or maybe just what a celebration was and what made it different from a festival.

He’d explain it later, when he didn’t feel so drained.

“Hey, bro,” he said, nudging him. “Watcha lookin’ at?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, and Dororo wondered if maybe he couldn’t talk right now. But then, his lip turned up the slightest bit. “Okowa looks happy.”

“Yeah?” Dororo grinned.

“Mm.” Hyakkimaru nodded.

And maybe one of them should have said something to keep the conversation going, but at least until they were out of the public eye, he couldn’t really think of anything that wasn’t better left unsaid.

Heh, Dororo thought. He almost sounded like Tahomaru.

The three of them remained there until the festivities had started to die down, waiting until the last of them cleared out before slipping inside and reclaiming their room.

Hyakkimaru had been more than happy to turn in, practically throwing himself down on the bedding the second Tahomaru laid it out, nestling his forehead against the blankets and feeling along them with his hands and feet. It must’ve felt pretty good, then, Dororo thought, flopping down next to him. As soon as he did, he felt exhaustion seeping into his bones and he stifled a yawn. No, he couldn’t fall asleep just yet. Not when there was still so much they needed to talk about. If he fell asleep now, he’d probably never say what he needed to.

“Hey, bro?”

“Mm?” Hyakkimaru continued messing with the blankets, but Dororo hadn’t traveled with him for months not to know he was still listening.

“I know that ghoul-thing was making you say things wrong earlier, but…” Shit, this shouldn’t still be so hard. “ _Are_ you thinking you don’t want to keep chasing the demons?”

His hands and feet were suddenly still. He didn’t give an answer, but his fingers slowly started curling and uncurling, pressing tighter against the bedding.

Oh. So he might _have_ really been thinking about it. That…wasn’t really the response Dororo had wanted. Even if he’d thought it was the case earlier, a small part of him had hoped it really was just the curse. He took a breath. “If you want to take a break from hunting demons, I think that’s okay.”

Hyakkimaru’s lip pressed into a thin line. From where Tahomaru fussed with little things around the room, he saw him freeze.

“I’m not saying you have to _quit_ ,” he clarified. He wanted to get that out of the way. “Just you don’t have to do it all at once if you don’t want to. You could go home for a bit, or we could find somewhere else and stay there for awhile. Or you could do something else. We could go back to the hot springs. I don’t know.”

He watched Hyakkimaru for any sign that he was thinking about it. His hand continued to grip and ungrip the blanket, and his brow lowered, but otherwise, his expression had slackened. So he was thinking about it, at least, and maybe a bit less stressed over it than before.

“The demons won’t stop attacking him, though,” Tahomaru spoke, making his way over. “Not while he’s still implicated in the deal.”

“Right, but that’s not as hard as actually trying to go after them. We’ve got, what, three left? _Maybe_ four if you count both eyes.” Dororo didn’t. That demon sword had both his ears. His eyes would probably be the same.

“There was one that didn’t get anything,” Tahomaru reminded him.

“Okay, four then,” Dororo snapped. Big deal. His big bro was missing three parts either way, and letting demons come to them was still easier than hunting them. Besides that, shouldn’t Tahomaru _want_ them to take longer? He could travel more and learn more about how to help his land that way, couldn’t he?

He sighed. Tahomaru wasn’t trying to push anyone, he reminded himself. It was just that he’d seen those nights when Hyakkimaru couldn’t feel something and thought he was being eaten. Even before that, he’d always worried about what the deal would do if they didn’t break it, if demons could reclaim stuff or anything. He had his own issues on top of that, and if the past few days were any indication, Dororo was about to start contributing a few of his own.

But they’d adjust to it. Just like they always had.

Maybe it would be okay to take a risk now. If what he’d told Munetsuna was right, then it might end up doing all of them some good.

Hyakkimaru must have noticed something, since he suddenly paused, tilting his head to look at him.

“I wish I knew what that guy said to you, that got you all freaked out.” An almost palpable coldness settled over them. “But I also know whatever it was, it doesn’t matter ‘cause it isn’t true.”

If he’d told him his brothers would die, that was blatantly not true. If it was any of the other things he could think of…

He could feel his heart thumping so hard he thought it might burst. “When I talked to Munetsuna, there was some stuff I started to understand. I’m still figuring it out, but… If you need arms, then I’ll be your arms. Or if it’s eyes… If you can’t get it back, that’s fine. We’ll figure it out as we go. Just like we always have.”

Hyakkimaru didn’t move, and Dororo held his breath. His expression didn’t really change, not obviously, anyway. But something about it made him look almost lost. It wasn’t…too much, was it?

Then his fingers curled again, and this time, he started to reach towards Dororo, stopping, almost withdrawing, reaching again. As much as he might have wanted to grab his hand and put it over his back, he’d long since learned that in moments like this, he couldn’t just go grabbing his brother’s hands.

But it wouldn’t hurt anything if he scooted himself a little closer. Not in this case, anyway.

It almost seemed like it even had the effect Dororo wanted. Hyakkimaru finally reached him and draped his arm over his back. As he glanced up, he saw Tahomaru put his hand over his shoulder, a silent affirmation of what Dororo had said.

They would figure it out. But first, they needed to rest.

* * *

When Tahomaru awoke the following morning, the first thing he became aware of was that Hyakkimaru had not gotten up yet. One arm was draped over Dororo, and the other had taken hold of part of the blankets, running the fabric between his fingers. Sometimes he still wondered just what that did for him, if he felt the vibrations up in his shoulders, or if it was just the motion of it or something else.

Still, he turned his head to acknowledge him as Tahomaru sat up. So he wasn’t asleep, then. He’d just decided not to get up. That was probably for the best. He’d been pushing himself far too hard lately, and Tahomaru would have preferred not to have to hold him down until he tired out.

Assuming he could have succeeded, of course. And that he wouldn’t have just woken up a short time later, still exhausted, but upset with him on top of that.

Hyakkimaru’s brow pinched in confusion, and he stifled a laugh in response. _It’s nothing_ , he was tempted to say. “I’m just relieved you were able to sleep well,” he said instead. When that confused look didn’t subside, he continued. “You’ve slept badly for days now. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Or perhaps he hadn’t realized how bad it had been himself. Tahomaru had enough of that kind of experience he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was in their blood.

“You and Dororo also sleep badly,” Hyakkimaru answered.

“It doesn’t change the fact of the matter.” He wasn’t entirely sure what prompted him to say that. “And Dororo’s right about what he said. If you’re exhausted, you don’t have to kill all the remaining demons at once.”

Even if some part of him screamed that he was condemning his land to worse torment by saying so. “It doesn’t do any good trying to break the deal if you end up dead before it’s broken.” He added, just to shut that part of him up.

A voice beside them groaned. “Sheesh.” Dororo sat up, grumbling about being _cold_ and _practical_ and _pretty sure they were past this_ , and there was _plenty he could say to that_.

Then he paused. “Think I could stuff one of these into our packs and sneak it out?” he asked, patting the blanket.

“I think we should consider not stealing from the people who boarded us for nearly a week,” Tahomaru answered, trying to sound stern even as he saw Hyakkimaru trying to hide a smile behind his bangs. “In any event, I think we should consider getting around if neither of you plans to go back to sleep.”

Dororo gave an obviously fake pout, and Hyakkimaru nuzzled his forehead against the blankets one last time, but aside from that, there was no complaint.

Okowa had met them just outside the inn. “Hey, it’s a little sudden, and I apologize for the change in plans, but my papa was wanting you to come to his forge to pick up the swords. He says it’s because he wants to have them there in case there’s more work to be done with them.”

For a moment, it almost seemed like Hyakkimaru would ask if the swords were coming here. Or maybe if they were going to the swords.

In the end, he said nothing until they had made it to the forge, where Munetsuna had presented them with the newly-reforged blades. Even then, Dororo was the one who spoke first.

“Woah! They look brand new!”

From behind Munetsuna, Okowa beamed. “Yup! Like I said, Papa is the best swordmaker in the land!”

Hyakkimaru’s expression didn’t change. In fact, he barely moved as he studied them. “The swords…are here.”

“Mm,” Tahomaru nodded, resting a hand on his shoulder for just a moment.

His jaw tensed, like there was something more he wanted to say.

“Go test them out,” Munetsuna said. “I can’t send you off if they still need work.”

Taking a breath, Hyakkimaru slid off one forearm, adjusting the blade to the length he wanted. His hand wavered between his detached forearm and the other blade. Then he held out his forearm to Dororo, allowing him to remove the other arm and sitting patiently while he adjusted the remaining blade.

They stood, Dororo taking his forearms, and found a space outside. Hyakkimaru gave one short, experimental swing. Then another. Then another. And then he took a step, and it was almost a restrained version of his typical style.

This continued long after the point that he would have known if the blades were going to fly out or not, and Tahomaru wondered if this was anything like what he’d done with the horse or the blankets. A part of him almost expected Munetsuna to say something, demand to know if he had an answer or not. But Munetsuna only watched.

“How are they, bro? You like them?” Dororo asked when he’d stopped swinging them.

“Mm,” he answered, the smallest smile ghosting across his lips.

Dororo returned his grin. “You look happy, bro. I’m glad.”

And just like that, the smile was gone. “I look happy.” Even then, it was still true.

“Then,” Tahomaru said, turning towards Okowa and Munetsuna, “is there anything you need to check, or will that be all?”

“It’s not the sword-maker who uses the sword, but the swordsman,” Munestuna replied.

“In that case, we’ll pay you and then we should be on our way. Thank you for repairing them.” His heart thumped in his throat. This much was probably too forward. “And Okowa, thank you for taking care of my brother when I couldn’t.”

He couldn’t exactly tell her that, if his brother _had_ decided to go through with it, he would have been glad for it to have been her. Not when she was now married to someone else. Even if she seemed to be taking her own time adjusting to the fact.

“Ah…” A faint blush colored her cheeks. “It really wasn’t any trouble. Since I’d thought we were getting married, and besides that, all the trouble was caused by the demon and…” She clasped her hands together and squeezed, watching them for a moment. “In any event, Mister Hyaku!”

From where Dororo was sliding his forearms back on, they paused and turned to her.

“Don’t forget! This is where the best swords in the land are made! If you break it again, you should come back here!”

That…wasn’t exactly what he’d expected her to say. Still, he supposed it couldn’t be easy for her, deciding what to say after a situation like this. In her place, he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to.

“Okay.” Hyakkimaru nodded.

He supposed he couldn’t fault him for agreeing so easily. Even with their last few days considered.

“Then, we’ll pay you and be on our way.”

* * *

As the group departed, Okowa stood back and watched. In the end, she supposed it must have been for the best things hadn’t gone the way she’d intended. There had been so many parts of that plan she hadn’t really had the time to think through. If she would be bringing her own sword or focusing more on other aspects of travel. Though she supposed a very powerful demon might not be something she should try to fight. Perhaps a dagger would have been better? Just for necessary defense?

And then, there would have been the question of her papa. Could she have left him by himself in a town that had insisted on badmouthing him? Even if he acted like it didn’t affect him, it…had to have… Right?

Even then…she didn’t exactly regret the way things had turned out.

“Those three are caught up in something much bigger than themselves. Probably bigger than most people could imagine.” Okowa startled as her papa spoke. She’d thought he had gone back inside. But then, it made sense that he would wait. Just in case something went wrong with one of the swords before they left. It wouldn’t happen, of course, but it never stopped him from being cautious.

“Like a war?” Between humans and demons? Or maybe it was too small a scale to be a real _war_ , but at least a battle. Or a few battles. A feud, maybe?

“No. But it’s not something I would have wanted you caught up in.”

Without the masks, she could see how something like that could go badly very quickly. And the fact that Hyakkimaru and his brothers were looking for demons probably meant they wouldn’t want her bringing the masks. Not if it would keep smart demons away. And certainly not if it would have attracted attention from curious samurai.

“…It’s nowhere near over for them, is it?” She wasn’t sure what possessed her to ask it.

Both of them already knew the answer.

She watched a little longer where they had disappeared into the trees. Then, she turned and went back to the house. Things had worked out for her, for her father, her husband, and her village. Things had to work out for them, too. She was certain of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I don't really want to be done with this fic, and procrastinated posting it for quite a bit even after I'd finished writing the chapter. There are a few things I'll be putting in a future fic/s, including a scene that was cut because I couldn't make it fit into the pacing I'd created, and because the way these characters have pushed themselves isn't really something that can be resolved with just a few good night's sleeps, even if it helps a bit.
> 
> I'd contemplated adding a POV for Munetsuna, but in the end I don't know that I have a grasp of his internal "voice" yet. I'm not sure yet when he'll get his own, but I'd like to try writing him some day.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


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